PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


urchased  by  the  Mary  Cheves  Dulles  Fund. 


DT365 

Seaion  »W54 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN 
EAST  AFRICA 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


https://archive.org/details/nativelifeineastOOweul 


The  Author 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN 
EAST  AFRICA 

THE 

RESULTS  OF  AN  ETHNOLOGICAL 
RESEARCH  EXPEDITION 


BY  y 

DR.  KARL  WEULE 

DIRECTOR   OF  THE  LEIPZIG 
ETHNOGRAPHICAL  MUSEUM   AND   PROFESSOR  AT 
THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  LEIPZIG 


*    FEB  4-  1910 

/"a--.   T*»T— . 


TRANSLAI  ED  BY 

ALICE        E  R  N  E  R 


NEW  YORK 
D   APPLETON   AND  COMPANY 
1909 


CONTENTS 


CHAP.  PAGE 

translator's  introduction.  .  .  xi 

I.  OUTWARD  BOUND                .                 .                 .                 .  1 

II.  THE  UNEXPECTED       ....  16 

III.  APPRENTICESHIP.  .                 .                 .  .26 

IV.  FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  THE  INTERIOR    .  .  45 
V.  LOOKING  ROUND                  .                 .                 .  .65 

VI.  NATIVE  LIFE  SEEN  FROM  THE  INSIDE    .                 .  77 

VII.  MY  CARAVAN  ON  THE  SOUTHWARD  MARCH   .                 .  104 

VIII.  AT  matola's              .               .               .  .134 

IX.  AMONG  THE  YAOS               .                 .                 .  .155 

X.  FURTHER  RESULTS      ....  190 

XL  TO  THE  ROVUMA                  ....  203 

XII.  UNYAGO  EVERYWHERE               .                 .                 .  230 

XIII.  THE  HARVEST  OF  KNOWLEDGE         .  .                 .  243 

XIV.  FURTHER  RESEARCHES  .                 .                 .  278 
XV.  LAST  DAYS  AT  NEWALA    .                 .                 .  .318 

XVI.  THE  ROVUMA  ONCE  MORE          .                 .                 .  332 

XVII.  ACHIEVEMENT      .....  352 

XVIII.  MY  RETURN  TO  THE  COAST      .                 .                 .  393 

XIX.  FROM  LINDI  TO  TANGA      ....  408 

XX.  RETROSPECT                  .                 .                 .                 .  413 
INDEX     ......  423 


V 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


CAPE  GUARDAFUI    .........  1 

DAR  ES  SALAM   HARBOUR  .......  2 

NATIVE   DANCE  AT  DAR  ES   SALAM     ......  3 

STREET   IN   NATIVE   QUARTER,   DAR  ES   SALAM     ....  4 

MAP  OF  THE   MAIN   CARAVAN  ROAD  ......  9 

COURTYARD  AT  DAR  ES   SALAM  .  .  .  .  .  .10 

IN  THE  EUROPEAN   QUARTER,    DAR  ES   SALAM      .  .  .  .12 

LINDI   BAY      .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .16 

THE   SS.    "  RUFIJI  "  ........  18 

VIEW   NEAR  THE   MOUTH   OF  THE  LUKULEDI   ABOVE   LINDI  .  .  19 

LINDI   ROADSTEAD  .........  24 

ARAB   DHOW  .........  25 

CHAIN-GANG  .........  26 

women's   DANCE   AT   DAR  ES   SALAM  .....  27 

SELIMAN   MAMBA      .........  29 

YAO  WOMEN   AT  MTUA     ........  33 

GIRLS  FROM  LINDI  ........  35 

RUINED  TOWER,    LINDI     ........  38 

UNDER  THE   PALMS  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  40 

THE  LIKWATA   DANCE        ........  45 

MAKUA  WOMEN   FROM  THE   LUKULEDI   VALLEY   .  .  .  .47 

A   MAN   OF  THE   MWERA   TRIBE   AND   A   YAO  .  .  .  .48 

RUINS   OF  NYANGAO   MISSION   STATION        .....  50 

A   MWERA  WOMAN  .........  56 

YOUNG   MAN   OF  THE   MWERA   TRIBE  .....  56 

MWERA   WOMAN   WITH   PIN   IN   LOWER   LIP  .  .  .  .57 

ROAD    THROUGH    THE    BUSH    IN    THE    NEIGHBOURHOOD  OF 

CHINGULUNGULU  ........  59 

MOUNTAINS   NEAR  MASASI  ......  .  65 

THE   INSULAR  MOUNTAIN   OF  MASASI  .....  67 

OUR   ASCENT   OF  MTANDI   MOUNTAIN  .....  72 

MNYASA  HUNTER  WITH   DOG     .......  77 

THROUGH  THE   BUSH   ON   A   COLLECTING  EXCURSION    ...  79 
READY  FOR  MARCHING   (mASASI)         ......  81 

CAMP  AT  MASASI      .........  83 

INTERIOR  OF  A  NATIVE  HUT  IN  THE   ROVUMA  VALLEY  .  .  85 

DOVECOTE   AND   GRANARY  .......  92 

RAT  TRAP        ..........  96 

TRAP  FOR  ANTELOPES       ........  98 

TRAP  FOR  GUINEA-FOWL  .......  99 

TRAP  FOR  LARGE  GAME  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .99 

MY  CARAVAN   ON   THE   MARCH  .  .  .  .  .  .  .104 

YAO  HOMESTEAD   AT   CHINGULUNGULU         .  .  .  .  .105 

vii 


viii 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


THE   YAO   CHIEF  MATOLA  .  .  .  .  .  .  .108 

NAKAAM,    A   YAO   CHIEF    .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .109 

INTERIOR   OF   A   COMPOUND   AT   MVVITI  .  .  .  .  .110 

CAMP   AT   MWITI       .  .  .  .  .  .  .  ,  .112 

SHUTTER  WITH  INLAID  SWASTIKA  IN  NAKAAM's  HOUSE    AT  MWITI  114 
YAO   HUT         .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .115 

ELDERLY   MAKONDE   WOMAN    IN   GALA   DRESS       ....  121 

GROUND   PLAN   OF  ZUZA'S   HUT  ......  128 

ZUZA's   COUCH   AND   FIREPLACE  .  .  ,  .  .  .129 

yao  women  with  nose-studs       ......  130 

infant's  grave    .........  132 

MATOLa'S  COMPOUND       .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  134 

beer-drinking      .........  136 

WaTAMBWE   woman   DECORATED   WITH   NUMEROUS   KELOIDS            .  141 
MANUAL  CHRONOLOGY,  "  THAT   HAPPENED   WHEN   I   WAS  SO  HIGH  "  145 

OUR  CAMP  AT  CHINGULUNGULU          ......  149 

WATER-HOLES   AT  CHINGULUNGULU   ......  151 

MAKONDE   WOMEN   FROM   MAHUTA      .  .  .  .  .  .153 

TWO   MAKUA   MOTHERS      ........  157 

A  FRIENDLY  CHAT              ........  158 

WOMAN   POUNDING  AT  THE   MORTAR             .....  165 

MONKEYS   ATTACKING  A   PLANTATION           .....  168 

THE  BLIND  BARD  SULILA  OUTSIDE  THE  BOMA  AT  MASASI         .            .  171 
YAO  DANCE  AT  CHINGULUNGULU       .           .           .           .           .  .178 

"  BUSH  SCHOOL  "   IN  THE   PORI,    NEAR  CHINGULUNGULU       .            .  179 

A   YAO   DRESSED  FOR  THE   MASEWE   DANCE          ....  181 

MASEWE  DANCE  OF  THE  YAOS  AT  MTUA   .  .  .  .  .182 

FRESCO  ON  THE  WALL  OF  A  HUT  AT   AKUNDONDE's    .            .           .  185 

HERD  OF  ELEPHANTS        ........  190 

VILLAGE   OF  THE   NGONI   CHIEF   MAKACHU             ....  193 

GRAVE   OF  THE   YAO   CHIEF  MALUCHIRO,   AT   MWITI       .            .            .  194 

KINDLING  FIRE  BY  FRICTION    .......  196 

MY  COMPANION,    NILS   KNUDSEN          ......  199 

FISH-DRYING  ON  THE   ROVUMA            ......  202 

TWO   MATAMBWE   MOTHERS  FROM  THE   ROVUMA              .            .            .  205 

TYPICAL   HUT  IN  THE   ROVUMA  VALLEY      .....  208 

DESERTED   BUILDINGS,   LUISENFELDE   MINE          ....  210 

UNYAGQ  BOYS   PLAYING  ON  FLUTES   OUTSIDE   THE   NDAGALA  AT 

AKUNDONDE's    .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .211 

LIKW^IKWI,    THE   BIRD   OF  ILL   OMEN             .....  212 

LISAKASA   IN  THE   FOREST   NEAR  AKUNDONDE'S  .  .  .  .213 

YAO  GRAVES  AT   AKUNDONDE's           ......  214 

NDAGALA  (cIRCUMCISION-LODGE)  IN  THE  FOREST  NEAR  AKUNDONDE's  216 

LAUGHING  BEAUTIES         ........  220 

girls'  UNYAGO  AT  THE  MAKONDE  HAMLET  OF  NIUCHI     .            .            .  221 

girl's   UNYAGO   AT  THE   MATAMBWE    VILLAGE    OF    MANGUPA.       I.  226 

girls'  UNYAGO  AT  THE  MATAMBWE  VILLAGE  OF  MANGUPA.      II    .  227 

OLD   MEDULA  LIGHTING  HIS   PIPE       ......  228 

OUR  CAMP  AT   NEWALA    ........  231 

THE  AUTHOR  IN   WINTER  COSTUME   AT   NEWALA            .            .            .  232 

MAKONDE   MASKS     .........  236 

MAKONDE  STILT-DANCER             .......  237 

THE   NJOROWE   DANCE   AT  NEWALA    ......  238 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


ix 


PAGE 

MAKONDE   WOMEN   GOING  TO   DRAW   WATER         ....  243 

TWO   NEWALA  SAVANTS    ........  245 

DANCE   ON  STILTS  AT  THE  GIRLS'  UNYAGO,  NIUCHI        .            .            ,  249 
FEET  MUTILATED   BY  THE   RAVAGES   OF  THE    "  JIGGER  "       .  .251 

NATIVE   PATH   THROUGH   THE   MAKONDE   BUSH,    NEAR   MAHUTA      .  256 

USUAL  METHOD   OF  CLOSING  HUT-DOOR      .....  261 

MAKONDE  LOCK  AND  KEY  AT  JUMBE  CHAURO    ....  262 

MODE   OF   INSERTING  THE   KEY            ......  263 

THE  ANCESTRESS   OF  THE   MAKONDE             .....  266 

BRAZIER           ..........  267 

NYASA  WOMAN   MAKING   POTS  AT   MASAI     .....  269 

MAKUA  WOMAN  MAKING  A   POT           ......  270 

MANUFACTURE   OF  BARK-CLOTH   AT   NEWALA        ....  275 

MAKUA  WOMEN        .........  278 

WOMAN   CARRYING  A   BABY  ON   HER   BACK            ....  283 

THREE   MAKUA  VEGETARIANS    .......  284 

USE   OF  THE  THROWING  STICK             ......  286 

THROWING  WITH   THE   SLING     .......  287 

SPINNING  A  TOP      .........  288 

IKOMA  DANCE   AT  THE   GIRLS'   UNYAGO,    ACHIKOMU      .            .            .  289 

XYLOPHONE   (mGOROMONDO)      .......  290 

playing  the  natura    ........  291 

natura  (friction  drum)       ...        .        .        .        .        .  291 

USING  THE   NATIVE   TELEPHONE  ....  292  and  293 

native  telephone        ........  293 

MAKONDE   children         ........  295 

MASEWE   dance   of  the   MAKUAS   in  the  BOMA  at  NEWALA         .  296 

KAKALE  procession  ON  THE  LAST  DAY  OF  THE  UNYAGO  .           .  298 

MASKED   DANCE   AT  THE  GIRLS'   UNYAGO,    NIUCHI         .            .            .  303 

WOMAN   OF  THE   MAKONDE  TRIBE       ......  305 

AN  OFFERING  TO  THE  SPIRITS            ......  324 

LANDSCAPE   ON  THE   ROVUMA    .......  325 

TREES  IN  THE   BURYING-GROUND   AT   NEWALA    ....  327 

KNOTTED   STRING  SERVING  AS   CALENDAR              ....  329 

MY  ESCORT  HALTED   AT  HENDERERA's  VILLAGE  IN  THE  MAKONDE 

HIGHLANDS          .........  334 

NATIVE   SUFFERING  FROM   THE   UBUBA  DISEASE             ,            .            .  337 

MAJALIWA,  SAIDI,  AND  MAKACHU        ......  338 

FOREST  RUINED  BY  NATIVES  NEAR  NCHICHIRA,  ROVUMA  VALLEY   .  343 
MATAMBWE   FISHERMAN    CATCHING   A    TURTLE,    WHICH    A  WATER- 
SNAKE  IS  TRYING  TO  SEIZE  .......  347 

PILE  DWELLING  ON  THE  ROVUMA,  NEAR  NCHICHIRA     .            .            .  350 

THE  WALI   OF  MAHUTA     ........  353 

MOTHER  AND   CHILD          ........  355 

TWO-STORIED   HOUSES  AT  NCHICHIRA  ON  THE   ROVUMA         .            .  357 

MAKONDE  GIRL   WITH  LIP   PIERCED   FOR  PELELE  AND  ULCERATED  358 
PSEUDO-SURGERY.      MAKONDE  WOMAN  WITH  TORN  LIP  ARTIFICIALLY 

JOINED      ..........  359 

MAKONDE   KELOIDS            ........  360 

MATAMBWE   AND   MAKUA   WOMEN   WITH   KELOIDS           .            .            .  361 

MAKUA  WOMAN   WITH   KELOIDS   ON   BACK  .....  362 

MAKUA  WOMEN  WITH  KELOIDS           ......  363 

MAKONDE   WOMEN   WITH   ELABORATE   KELOIDS    ....  364 


X 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

AFRICAN  ART  :    CARVED  POWDER,  SNUFF,  AND  CHARM  BOXES  FROM 


THE   MAKONDE   HIGHLANDS             ......  365 

MAKONDE   MAN   WITH   KELOID   PATTERNS    .....  365 

YAO  WOMEN   WITH   KELOIDS      .......  366 

THE  LITOTWE            .........  367 

"  BWANA   PUFESA  "    (THE   PROFESSOR)          .....  368 

WANGONI   WOMEN   AT  NCHICHIRA       ......  369 

TWO  NATIVES            .........  370 

THE   BUSH   COUNTRY  AND   ITS   FAUNA          .....  372 

MAKONDE   WOMAN   IN   HOLIDAY  ATTIRE      .....  375 

MAKONDE   HAMLET  NEAR  MAHUTA     ......  377 

A   DIABOLO   PLAYER   ON  THE   MAKONDE   PLATEAU          .            .            .  378 

DIABOLO           ..........  379 

ASKARI   IN   FATIGUE   DRESS        .......  382 

WANDUWANDU'S  GRAVE  .            .            .            .            .            .            .            .  397 

GREAT  NGOMA  DANCE   IN   THE  BOMA  AT   MAHUTA         .            .            .  403 

MY  ESCORT   CLEANING  THEIR  TEETH            .....  405 

ENTERING  THE   RED   SEA             .......  408 

THE  AUTHOR  IN   BUSH   COSTUME         .  .  .  .  .  .410 


Translator's  Introduction 


The  greater  thoroughness  and  system  with  which  anthropo- 
logy and  the  kindred  sciences  have  been  cultivated  in  Germany 
than  in  this  country,  has  been  repeatedly  brought  home  to 
us  ;  but  in  nothing  is  it  more  apparent  than  in  the  difficulty 
of  finding  equivalents  for  quite  elementary  technical  terms. 
The  distinction  between  ethnology  and  ethnography,  indeed, 
is  pretty  generally  recognized,  and  is  explained  in  works  as 
popular  in  scope  as  Professor  Keane's  Ethnology  and  Man  Past 
and  Present.  But  Vdlkerkunde,  which  includes  both  these 
sciences  and  some  others  besides,  is  something  which  certainly 
cannot  be  translated  by  its  etymological  equivalent  "  folk- 
lore ;  "  and,  though  the  word  "  prehistoric "  is  perfectly 
familiar,  we  have  no  such  noun  as  "  prehistory,"  far  less  a 
professorship  of  the  same  in  any  university.  These  remarks 
are  suggested  by  the  fact  that  Dr.  Weule,  whose  experiences 
in  East  Africa  are  here  presented  to  the  English  reader,  is 
"  Professor  of  Vdlkerkunde  und  Urgeschichte  "  at  Leipzig, 
besides  being  Director  of  the  Ethnographical  Museum  in  the 
same  city. 

Dr.  Karl  Weule,  whose  name  is  less  well  known  in  England 
than  in  his  own  country,  has  in  the  past  devoted  himself 
rather  to  geography  than  to  ethnography  proper.  He  was  a 
pupil  and  friend  of  the  late  Friedrich  Ratzel,  whose  History 
of  Mankind  was  translated  into  English  some  years  ago,  and 
whose  Politische  Geographie  gave  a  new  direction  to  the  study 
of  that  science  in  its  more  immediate  relation  to  the  historical 
development  of  mankind,  or  what  is  now  called  "  anthropo- 
geography."  It  was  Ratzel,  too,  who  suggested  to  Dr. 
Helmolt  the  idea  of  his  Weltgeschichte,  a  comprehensive  history 
of  the  world,  built  up  out  of  detached  monographs,  including 
three  by  Dr.  Weule,  on  the  historical  importance  of  the  three 

xi 


Xll 


INTRODUCTION 


great  •  oceans.  (Only  one  of  these  appears  in  the  Enghsh 
edition,  with  introduction  by  Professor  Bryce,  pubhshed  in 
1901).  Dr.  Weule  returned  to  the  same  subject  in  his  History 
of  Geography  and  Exploration  {Geschichte  der  Erdkenntnis  und 
der  geographischen  Forschung)  and  a  detached  essay,  Das  Meer 
und  die  Naturvolker  (both  pubhshed  in  1904),  with  various 
other  monographs  of  a  similar  character. 

After  completing  his  university  studies  at  Gottingen  and 
Leipzig,  Dr.  Weule  resided  from  1891  to  1899  at  Berhn,  first 
as  a  member  of  the  Richthofen  Seminary,  where  his  work  was 
more  purely  geographical,  and  afterwards  as  assistant  in  the 
African  and  Oceanian  section  of  the  Ethnological  Museum. 
In  1899  he  was  appointed  to  the  Assistant  Directorship  of  the 
Leipzig  Museum,  and  at  the  same  time  to  the  chair  which  he 
still  occupies  at  that  University  ;  and,  seven  years  later,  he 
was  entrusted  with  the  research  expedition  described  in  the 
following  pages,  where  its  scope  and  objects  are  set  forth  with 
sufficient  clearness  to  render  further  reference  in  this  place 
unnecessary.  After  his  return  he  was  promoted  to  the 
appointment  he  now  holds  at  the  Leipzig  Museum. 

His  residence  in  Africa  lasted  a  little  over  six  months,  and 
the  record  before  us  shows  that  he  made  good  use  of  his  time. 
Several  features  in  his  narrative  have  the  merit  of  novelty, 
at  least  as  far  as  the  general  reader  is  concerned  ;  for  though 
the  cinematograph  and  phonograph  have  been  made  use  of 
for  some  time  past  in  the  service  of  anthropology,  yet  we  do 
not  remember  to  have  seen  the  results  of  the  latter  figuring  to 
any  great  extent  in  a  work  of  this  sort,  though  Sir  Harry 
Johnston  has  reproduced  one  phonographic  record  of  a  native 
air  in  his  Uganda  Protectorate.  (It  is  very  unfortunate  that 
so  many  of  Dr.  Weule's  cinematograph  films  proved  a 
disappointment  ;  this  instrument  is  proving  one  of  the  most 
valuable  adjuncts  to  exploration,  especially  in  the  case  of 
tribes  whose  peculiar  customs  are  rapidly  passing  away  before 
the  advance  of  civilization).  Another  point  which  imparts 
great  freshness  to  Dr.  Weule's  work  is  the  happy  inspiration 
which  led  him  to  collect  native  drawings  ;  the  sketches  by  his 
carriers  and  especially  the  portrait  of  the  author  himself  on 
p.  368  are  decided  contributions  to  the  gaiety  of  nations,  and 
strike  out  a  line  unworked,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  by  previous 


INTRODUCTION 


Xlll 


travellers.  It  is  a  matter  of  deep  and  lasting  regret  to  me, 
personally,  that  I  ever  parted  with  a  similar  gem  of  art,  picked 
up  at  Blantyre,  and  presumably  representing  a  European 
engaged  in  inspecting  his  coffee  plantation. 

This  whole  question  of  native  African  art  is  very  interesting. 
Properly  speaking,  nothing  in  the  way  of  indigenous  graphic 
art  is  known  to  exist  in  Africa,  outside  Egypt  and  Abyssinia, 
(if  indeed  it  can  be  called  indigenous  in  the  latter  case),  except 
the  rock  paintings  of  the  Bushmen,  which,  as  is  well  known, 
have  in  some -cases  attained  real  excellence.  (The  best  pub- 
lished reproductions  up  to  the  present  date  are  contained 
in  the  late  G.  W.  Stow's  Native  Races  of  South  Africa.)  In 
South  Africa  w^herever  Bantu  natives  have  executed  any 
paintings  beyond  the  simplest  geometrical  patterns,  they 
are  found  to  have  learnt  the  art  from  Bushmen.  The  natives 
on  Mount  Mlanje  (Nyasaland)  decorate  their  huts  with  paint- 
ings of  animals,  but  these  have  not  yet  been  sufficiently 
examined  to  pronounce  on  their  quality  ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  many  things  render  it  probable  that  there  is  a  strong 
Bushman  element  in  the  population  of  Mlanje  (at  least  in 
the  indigenous  Anyanja,  who  have  been  only  partly  displaced 
by  the  Yaos).  Dr.  Weule  states  that  this  kind  of  "  fresco  " 
decoration  is  very  common  on  the  Makonde  Plateau,  but 
considers  that  it  is  entirely  on  the  same  level  as  the  drawings 
of  his  carriers — i.^.,that  it  shows  no  artistic  aptitude  or  tradi- 
tion, and  merely  consists  of  scrawls  such  as  those  with  which 
innate  depravity  impels  every  untaught  human  being  to  deface 
any  convenient  blank  space.  The  single  specimen  reproduced 
in  his  book  is  not  precisely  calculated  to  refute  his  theory, 
yet  it  is  no  rougher  than  some  of  the  cruder  Bushmen  draw- 
ings (which  show  every  conceivable  degree  of  skill  and  finish)  ; 
and,  if  the  daubs  in  question  are  merely  the  product  of  the 
universal  gamin  instinct,  surely,  huts  having  clay  walls  would 
everywhere  be  adorned  with  animal-paintings,  which  is  by  no 
means  the  case. 

The  comparative  value  of  Dr.  Weule's  various  results  must 
be  left  to  the  judgment  of  experts  ;  but  it  seems  safe  to  assume 
that  he  was  most  successful  in  what  may  be  called  the  outside 
part  of  his  task  :  in  forming  a  collection  and  in  describing  what 
is  visible  and  tangible  in  the  hfe  and  customs  of  the  people.  That 


xiv 


INTRODUCTION 


he  should  have  failed  to  penetrate  their  inner  life  is  scarcely 
surprising.  What  does  surprise  one  is  that  he  should  have 
expected  to  do  so  at  such  exceedingly  short  notice.  His 
disappointment  in  this  respect  at  Masasi,  and  subsequently 
at  Chingulungulu,  is  calculated  to  provoke  a  smile,  if  not 
"  from  the  sinful,"  at  least  from  the  veteran  in  African  ex- 
perience. The  greater  his  experience  the  more  is  the  inquirer 
inclined  to  hesitate  before  putting  direct  questions  even  when 
they  cannot  be  described  as  "  leading  "  ;  but  Dr.  Weule 
seems  to  have  recognized  no  other  mode  of  investigation.  The 
wonder  is  that  the  elders,  officially  convened  by  tuck  of  drum 
from  village  after  village  and  set  down  to  be  pumped  till 
both  parties  were  heartily  weary  of  the  process,  should  have 
told  him  anything  at  all— as  they  undoubtedly  did,  and 
much  of  it,  to  judge  from  internal  evidence,  correct  enough. 
The  most  sympathetic  of  travellers  does  not  always  find  it 
easy  to  satisfy  his  thirst  for  knowledge,  and  Dr.  Weule's 
methods,  on  his  own  showing,  were  frequently  such  that  I 
prefer  to  withhold  any  comment. 

Dr.  Weule  devoted  a  considerable  amount  of  time  to 
the  study  of  the  languages  spoken  in  the  districts  he  visited, 
viz.,  Makua,  Yao,  and  Makonde ;  but  he  does  not  appear  to 
have  published  any  linguistic  documents  beyond  the  songs, 
etc.,  given  in  the  present  volume.  It  is  not  clear  whether 
he  was  aware  of  any  work  previously  done  in  this  direction, 
but  he  certainly  speaks  as  though  he  were  the  first  to  reduce 
these  idioms  to  writing,  though  abundant  materials  exist  in 
print  for  the  study  of  Yao,  and  the  late  Bishop  Maples  pubhshed 
a  grammatical  sketch  of  Makua  which  is  excellent  as  far  as 
it  goes,  not  to  mention  the  more  recent  work  of  Professor 
Meinhof.  It  is  also  extremely  strange  that,  while  insisting 
on  the  close  relationship  between  the  different  languages 
of  the  Makonde  Plateau,  he  should  have  overlooked  the 
curious  cleavage  between  Makua,— which  has  peculiarities 
directly  connecting  it  with  the  distant  Sechuana  and  Sesuto 
— and  its  neighbours. 

Though  the  scene  of  Dr.  Weule's  labours  was  repeatedly 
visited  by  Europeans,  even  before  the  German  occupation, 
not  much  has  been  written  about  it  in  this  country  outside 
the  publications  of  the  Universities'  Mission.  Livingstone 


INTRODUCTION 


XV 


ascended  the  Rovuma  in  1862,  to  within  thirty  miles  of 
Ngomano  at  the  Lujende  junction  ;  his  farthest  point  being 
apparently  a  little  higher  up  than  the  camp  occupied  by  Dr. 
Weule  in  August,  1906.  He  had  hoped  to  find  a  navigable 
waterway  to  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Lake  Nyasa  ;  and,  in 
fact,  some  natives  told  him  that  the  Rovuma  came  out  of  the 
Lake  ;  but  the  rapids  and  rocks  made  it  impossible  to  take 
the  boats  beyond  the  island  of  Nyamatolo,  which,  though 
not  marked  on  Dr.  Weule's  map,  must  be  somewhere  near  the 
mouth  of  the  Bangala.  Most  of  the  names  given  by  Living- 
stone are  difficult  to  identify  on  recent  maps  ;  but  this  is  not 
surprising,  as  native  villages  are  usually  known  by  the  name 
of  the  chief  or  headman  for  the  time  being.  It  is  true  that 
some  of  these  names  are  more  or  less  permanent,  being  official 
or  hereditary  designations  assumed  by  every  successive  func- 
tionary ;  but  the  population  has  shifted  so  much  during  the 
last  forty  years  that  the  old  names  have  been  forgotten  or 
transferred  to  other  sites.  Thus  Mr.  H.  E.  O'Neill,  in  1882, 
found  the  Yao  chief  Chimsaka  living  in  the  eastern  part  of  the 
Mavia  Plateau  a  little  east  of  40°  E,  having  been  driven  from 
his  former  place  on  the  Upper  Rovuma,  more  than  two  hundred 
miles  to  the  west,  by  a  raid  of  the  Mangoni  (Angoni  or 
Maviti). 

The  country  is  still  inhabited,  as  it  was  in  Livingstone's 
time,  by  the  Makonde,  Makua,  and  Matambwe  tribes,  with 
the  Wamwera  to  the  north  in  the  hinterland  of  Lindi,  and  the 
Mavia  (Mabiha)  south  of  the  Rovuma,  but  they  have  moved 
about  a  good  deal  within  its  limits,  while  the  Yaos  have  pene- 
trated it  from  the  west.  The  raids  of  the  Angoni  or  Maviti 
have  also  played  a  great  part  in  these  changes.  Dr.  Weule, 
as  we  shall  see,  made  careful  inquiries  on  the  subject  of  these 
tribal  migrations,  and  the  information  given  to  him  fits  in 
fairly  well  with  what  others  have  obtained  from  the  Yaos 
in  the  Shire  Highlands  and  the  Angoni  to  the  west  of  Lake 
Nyasa. 

Livingstone  returned  to  this  region  on  his  last  journey, 
when  he  landed  at  Mikindani  Bay  (March  24,  1866)  with  those 
unfortunate  camels  and  buffaloes  whose  sufferings  on  the 
jungle-march  made  his  diary  such  painful  reading.  The  choice 
of  camels  for  transport  in  this  country  was  certainly  a  mistake  ; 


XVI 


INTRODUCTION 


but  a  greater  mistake — and  one  which  he  bitterly  regretted — ■ 
was  made  in  the  choice  of  the  men  who  drove  the  camels. 

On  this  occasion,  Livingstone  followed  the  Rovuma  by  land 
as  far  as  Mtarika's  (the  old  village  about  the  Lujende  con- 
fluence, near  Chimsaka's  former  abode,  not  the  Mtarika's 
which  will  be  found  marked  in  Dr.  Weule's  map  on  the  Lujende 
itself),  and  struck  south-westward  in  the  direction  of  the  Lake, 
which  he  reached,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Mtsinje,  on  the  8th 
of  August.  The  route  followed  some  years  previously  by 
Dr.  Roscher,  who  made  his  way  from  Kilwa  to  Lake  Nyasa, 
sighting  it  November  24,  1859,  a  few  weeks  after  its  discovery 
by  Livingstone,  lies  somewhat  to  the  north-west  of  the  country 
dealt  with  in  this  book,  and  nowhere  touches  the  scene  of 
Dr.  Weule's  travels. 

In  1875,  the  late  Bishop  Steere  followed  in  Livingstone's 
tracks,  starting  from  Lindi  on  the  first  of  November,  and 
reaching  Mwembe  (Mataka's  village)  in  a  little  over  five  weeks. 
This  was  the  first  of  a  series  of  remarkable  journeys  accom- 
pHshed  by  members  of  the  Universities'  Mission,  of  which  we 
need  here  only  mention  that  of  the  Rev.  W.  P.  (now^  Archdeacon) 
Johnson  and  the  late  Rev.  C.  A.  Janson  in  1882.  The  station 
of  Masasi  was  founded  in  1876,  and  that  of  Newala  in  1882  ; 
the  buildings  of  the  former  were  nearly  all  destroyed  in  the 
"  Majimaji  "  rising  of  1906,  shortly  before  Dr.  Weule's  visit, 
and  are  only  now  in  process  of  reconstruction. 

The  Rovuma  valley  was  further  explored  in  1882,  by  the 
late  Joseph  Thomson,  whom  the  Sultan  of  Zanzibar  had 
commissioned  to  examine  its  mineral  resources,  with  a  view 
to  ascertaining  if  workable  coal-seams  existed.  His  report 
was,  on  the  whole,  unfavourable,  though  a  French  engineer, 
M.  D'Angelvy,  subsequently  (in  1884)  despatched  on  a  similar 
errand,  came  to  a  different  conclusion.  The  Livingstone 
expedition  had  found  coal  near  Lake  Ghidia,  in  1862  ;  but 
up  to  the  present  day  it  has  not  been  utilized. 

Mr.  H.  E.  O'Neill,  when  British  Consul  at  Mozambique, 
did  a  great  deal  of  exploring,  in  an  unobtrusive  way,  between 
the  coast  and  Lake  Nyasa,  and,  in  1882  examined  the  country 
inland  from  Tungi  Bay,  and  south  of  the  Rovuma,  being  the 
first  European  to  penetrate  the  Mavia  Plateau  and  come  in 
contact  with  that  tribe  who  enjoyed  among  their  neighbours 


INTRODUCTION 


XVI 1 


the  reputation  of  being  "so  fierce  and  inhospitable  that  no 
one  dares  to  pass  througli  their  country."  This  exchisiveness 
Mr.  O'Neill  found  to  be  largely  if  not  entirely  the  result  of 
the  persecution  the  Ma  via  had  undergone  at  the  hands  of 
stronger  tribes,  particularly  the  Yaos,  incited  by  coast  slave- 
traders.  They  were  unwilling  to  guide  him  to  their  villages, 
and  took  him  there  by  night  so  that  he  might  be  the  less  hkely 
to  find  his  way  there  a  second  time  ;  but,  "  when  once  their 
natural  suspicions  were  allayed  and  confidence  established, 
they  were  hospitable  and  generous,  and  showed  neither  distrust 
nor  reserve.  Indeed,  they  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  particularly 
simple-minded,  harmless  folk."  Men,  as  well  as  women,  wear 
the  pelele,  or  lip  ring,  as  mentioned  by  Dr.  Weule,  who  never 
came  across  the  Mavia  for  himself.  Of  their  wearing  their 
hair  in  pig-tails,  Mr.  O'Neill  says  nothing — in  fact,  beyond  the 
pelele,  there  was  little  to  distinguish  them  from  neighbouring 
tribes,  and  he  was  disposed  to  consider  them  a  branch  of  the 
Makonde.  His  description  of  their  villages  hidden  away  in 
the  thorny  jungle  and  approached  by  circuitous  paths  recalls 
what  Dr.  Weule  says  as  to  the  difficulty  of  finding  the  Makonde 
settlements  without  a  guide.  In  the  course  of  this  journey 
Mr.  O'Neill  discovered  Lake  Lidede,  and  at  one  point  of  his 
march  he  looked  down  on  the  Rovuma  Valley  from  the  edge 
of  the  Mavia  Plateau  at  almost  the  same  point  as  that  where 
Dr.  Weule  saw  it  from  the  opposite  escarpment,  as  described 
on  pp.  343-4.  It  is  interesting  to  compare  the  two  accounts  : — 
Mr.  O'Neill's  is  to  be  found  in  the  Proceedings  of  the  R.G.S. 
for  1882,  p.  30. 

Mr.  J.  T.  Last,  starting  from  Lindi  on  the  28th  of  October, 
1885,  made  his  way  overland  to  Blantyre,  via  Newala,  Ngomano 
and  the  Lujende  Valley,  in  eleven  weeks.  He  remarks  on  the 
"  desolation  of  the  country  which  was  formerly  well  populated, 
as  the  sites  of  the  old  villages  show  ;  but  now  there  is  not  a 
house  to  be  seen" — through  the  raids  of  the  Magwangara  and 
others.  Lions  were  as  numerous  as  they  appear  to  have  been 
in  1906,  and  for  a  similar  reason.  One  of  Mr.  Last's  carriers 
was  dragged  out  of  the  grass  shelter  where  the  men  were 
sleeping,  thus  affording  an  almost  exact  parallel  to  the  incident 
related  by  Dr.  Weule  on  pp.  394-8. 

At  this  time  the  country  was  under  the  nominal  rule  of  the 

B— (2131) 


XVlll 


INTRODUCTION 


Sultan  of  Zanzibar,  who  stationed  liis  officials  at  some  of  the 
places  near  the  coast  and  exercised  a  somewhat  intermittent 
and  uncertain  authority  over  the  chiefs  in  the  interior.  By 
the  treaty  of  1890  the  whole  of  the  mainland  as  far  back  as 
Lakes  Victoria  and  Tanganyika,  between  the  Rovuma  on  the 
south,  and  the  Umba  River  on  the  north,  was  handed  over 
to  Germany,  while  the  protectorate  over  what  remained  of 
the  Sultan's  dominions  (viz.,  the  islands  of  Zanzibar  and 
Pemba)  was  taken  over  by  the  British  Government. 

It  seems  improbable  that  this  immense  territory  can  ever 
be  colonised  by  Germans  in  the  same  way  in  which  Canada 
and  Australia  have  been  colonised  by  ourselves.  There  are  few 
if  any  parts  where  German  peasants  and  workmen  could  expect 
to  live,  labour,  and  bring  up  families.  So  far  as  the  country 
has  been  settled  at  all,  it  is  on  the  plantation  system  :  European 
capitahsts  cultivating  large  tracts  of  land  by  means  of  native 
labour.  Some  coffee  plantations  in  Usambara  are,  we  under- 
stand, flourishing  fairly  well,  though  not  producing  wealth 
beyond  the  dreams  of  avarice  ;  but  the  system,  if  it  is  to  be 
extended  to  the  whole  territory,  does  not  augur  well  for  the 
future.  It  is  not  a  healthy  one  for  employer  or  employed  ; 
it  always  tends  in  the  direction  of  forced  labour  and  more  or 
less  disguised  slavery  ;  and,  in  the  end,  to  the  creation  of  a 
miserable  and  degraded  proletariat.  Much  more  satisfactory 
is  the  method  to  which  Dr.  Weule  extends  a  somewhat  qualified 
approval  (though  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  has  his  sympa- 
thies) of  securing  to  the  native  his  own  small  holding  and 
buying  his  produce  from  him,  as  has  been  done,  to  some 
extent,  with  the  best  results,  in  our  own  Gold  Coast  Colony. 
Dr.  Weule  remarks,  somewhat  naively,  that  a  wholesale 
immigration  from  Germany  would  be  interfered  with  if  the 
native  "  claimed  the  best  parts  of  his  own  country  for  himself." 
But  surely  a  ver  sacrum  of  the  kind  contemplated  is  unthinkable 
in  the  case  of  East  Africa. 

It  is  possible  that  the  reader  may  be  somewhat  perplexed 
by  Dr.  Weule's  estimate— or  estimates — of  the  native  character. 
The  recurring  contradictions  apparent  in  various  parts  of  his 
book  arise  from  the  plan  on  which  it  is  written.  In  the  origi- 
nal edition,  the  traveller's  narrative  takes  the  form  of  letters 
addressed  to  his  wife  and  friends  from  the  successive  stages  of 


INTRODUCTION 


XIX 


his  journey.  This  form  has  been  dispensed  with  (beyond  the 
dates  at  the  head  of  each  chapter)  in  translation,^  because  the 
personal  allusions,  in  a  foreign  dress,  rather  detract  from  than 
add  to  the  interest  of  the  narrative,  and  all  the  more  so,  as 
they  are  not,  in  a  sense,  genuine,  but  have  been  added,  apres 
coup,  to  impart  an  air  of  verisimilitude  to  the  letters.  The 
latter,  in  fact,  were  not  written  from  the  places  at  which  they 
are  dated,  but  were  put  into  shape  after  the  author's  return 
to  Europe,  from  notes  made  on  the  spot,  together  with  extracts 
from  actual  letters,  not  printed  as  a  whole.  This  material, 
in  order  not  to  sacrifice  the  freshness  of  first  impressions,  has 
been  used  very  much  as  it  stood,  and  it  will  be  noticed  that,  in 
many  cases,  the  observations  made  at  different  places  correct 
and  qualify  one  another. 

I  am  glad  to  find  that  Dr.  Weule  stands  up  for  the  native 
in  respect  of  the  old  accusation  of  laziness.  He  shows  that 
the  people  of  the  Makonde  Plateau,  at  any  rate,  work  pretty 
hard  (in  some  points,  as  in  their  water-carrying,  unnecessarily 
hard)  for  a  living.  He  also  defends  them  against  the  charge 
of  improvidence,  making  it  quite  plain  that  they  take  infinite 
pains  in  storing  their  seed-corn  for  next  season,  and  that,  if 
they  do  not  save  more  of  their  crops  against  a  year  of  famine, 
instead  of  making  the  surplus  into  beer,  it  is  because  they  have, 
under  present  circumstances,  absolutely  no  means  of  keeping 
them.  It  is  true  that,  in  one  passage,  he  seems  to  depreciate 
the  industry  of  native  women,  by  comparison  with  the  work 
done  by  German  maid-servants  and  farmers'  wives.  But  he 
forgets  to  make  allowance  for  the  difference  of  climate — and, 
perhaps,  one  may  be  permitted  to  doubt  whether  any  human 
being  really  ought  to  w^ork  as  hard  as  most  German  women 
do  in  town  or  country. 

On  the  whole.  Dr.  Weule  is  kindly  disposed  towards  the 
native.  He  does  not  seem  entirely  to  have  escaped  the  danger 
deprecated  on  p.  41 — at  least  it  strikes  one  that  some  of  the 
(doubtless  not  unmerited)  castigations  bestowed  in  the  course 
of  his  pages  might  have  been  dispensed  with  by  the  exercise 

1  It  must  also  be  added  that  the  text  has  been  handled  somewhat 
freely,  and  many  passages  eliminated,  not  because  they  were  in  them- 
selves objectionable,  but  because  they  added  nothing  important  to  the 
narrative,  and  fell  intolerably  fiat  in  translation. 


XX 


INTRODUCTION 


of  a  little  more  patience  and  tact  ;  but  he  remained  throughout 
on  the  best  of  terms  with  his  carriers,  and  appears  to  have 
parted  from  Moritz,  Kibwana  and  Omari,  in  spite  of  the  trials 
to  which  they  had  subjected  him  in  the  exercise  of  their  several 
functions,  with  no  ill-feeling  on  either  side.  More  than  once 
he  bears  testimony  to  the  uniform  good  manners  of  the  people 
whose  villages  he  visited,  and  to  their  homely  virtues — their 
unfailing  cheerfulness,  their  family  affection,  and  their  respect 
for  parents.  At  the  same  time,  he  relates  various  incidents 
calculated  to  leave  a  less  pleasant  impression,  though  it  must 
be  remembered  that  the  proportion  they  bear  to  the  whole 
of  native  life  is  probably  less  than  that  borne  by  the  criminal 
cases  reported  in  our  newspapers  to  the  daily  life  and  conduct 
of  our  population  in  general.  Dr.  Weule's  stay  in  Africa 
was  surely  long  enough  for  him  to  see  that  the  Bantu  native 
is  not  in  general  bloodthirsty  or  ferocious  ;  that,  on  the 
contrary,  when  not  maddened  by  terror  or  resentment,  he  is 
gentle,  reasonable,  and  even  somewhat  lacking  in  vindictive- 
ness  compared  with  other  races.  Yet,  in  the  scientific  report  on 
the  expedition  (a  publication  several  times  alluded  to  in  the 
course  of  the  work  before  us)  the  author  is,  it  seems  to  me, 
guilty  of  a  grave  injustice. 

The  reader  will  note  that,  on  his  return  to  the  coast  (see 
pp.  27-9),  he  spent  some  time  in  studying  the  records  of  the 
Criminal  Court  at  Lindi,  though  he  does  not  here  tell  us 
anything  about  the  results  of  his  examination.  Now  these 
records  certainly  afford  valuable  material  for  the  study  of  social 
conditions  ;  but  they  should  be  used  with  discrimination. 
Dr.  Weule  does  not  give  what  is  of  the  very  first  importance, 
the  number  of  criminal  cases  and  their  proportion  to  the 
population,  especially  as  the  serious  cases,  which  are  brought 
for  trial  to  Lindi,  represent  the  whole  of  an  extensive  province. 
But  he  mentions  two  atrocities  as  a  proof  of  the  ignorance 
shown  by  certain  German  newspapers,  which  "  during  the 
last  two  years  have  thought  it  necessary  to  insist,  over  and 
over  again,  on  the  noble  traits  in  the  negro  character,"  and 
of  the  "  predominance  of  low  instincts  in  those  sons  of  un- 
tamed nature  "  who  have  "  an  innate  disposition  to  violence." 
One  of  the  cases  in  question  was  that  of  a  woman  who  killed 
her  own  mother  by  a  blow  with  the  pestle  used  for  pounding 


INTRODUCTION 


XXI 


com.  But  it  is  hardly  fair  to  place  this  murder  on  the  same 
footing  as  a  crime  committed  out  of  mere  brutal  passion  : 
the  woman's  children  had  died,  and  she  believed  her  mother 
to  have  caused  their  death  by  witchcraft.  We  know  what 
horrible  cruelties  this  belief  has  induced  people  not  other- 
wise depraved  to  commit  :  an  instance  occurred  only  twelve 
or  thirteen  years  ago,  no  further  off  than  Clonmel.  The  other 
case,  which  is  certainly  revolting  enough,  was  the  revenge  of 
a  husband  on  a  guilty  wife.  But  both  of  them  together 
prove  absolutely  nothing  without  information  which  would 
enable  us  to  see  whether  they  are  to  be  regarded  as  exceptional, 
or  as  in  any  sense  typical.  The  other  incident  given  by  way 
of  proving  that  violence  and  brutality  are  "in  the  blood"  of 
the  native,  is  that  of  an  unfortunate  woman  who,  unsuspici- 
ously passing  through  the  bush,  fell  in  with  a  band  of  unyago 
boys,  and  was  by  them  seized  and  put  into  a  slave-stick  "  out 
of  mere  mischief  and  enjoyment  of  violence."  The  comment 
on  this  is  that,  unless  the  woman  had  been  a  stranger  from  a 
distance  (who,  under  ordinary  circumstances  would  not  be 
very  likely  to  travel  alone),  she  must  have  known  that  there 
was  an  unyago  in  the  neighbourhood,  that  if  she  traversed 
the  bush  in  that  direction  she  would  do  so  at  her  peril,  and 
that  her  trespassing  on  the  forbidden  ground  was  an  act  of 
the  grossest  impropriety  combined  with  sacrilege.  As  for 
"  delight  in  violence  " — surely  that,  in  one  form  or  another, 
is  an  inherent  attribute  of  the  "  human  boy  "  in  every  part 
of  the  world,  above  all  when  he  conceives  himself  to  have  a 
legitimate  excuse  ? 

The  mention  of  the  unyago  mysteries  suggests  a  subject  on 
which  Dr.  Weule  has  obtained  fuller  information  than  any 
previous  writer^ — at  any  rate  on  this  part  of  Africa.  It  is 
surprising  that  he  should  have  been  able  to  secure  so  many 
photographs  of  the  dances — especially  those  of  the  women — 
but  these  only  constitute  the  more  public  part  of  the  cere- 
monial. As  to  the  instruction  given  to  the  younger  generation, 
he  does  not  seem  to  have  got  beyond  generalities  except  in  the 
case  of  the  tw^o  old  men  who,  when  very  drunk,  began  to  dictate 
the  actual  formula  in  use,  though  they  did  not  get  to  the 
end  of  it.  Whether  any  tribal  traditions,  any  myths,  em- 
bodying the  religious  ideas  of  a  far  distant  past,  are  handed 


XXll 


INTRODUCTION 


down  along  witli  snch  practical  teaching  about  life  as  the 
elders  are  able  to  give,  does  not  appear — but  from  what 
we  know  about  other  tribes  it  seems  highly  probable.  Among 
the  Anyanja  (Wanyasa)  of  Lake  Nyasa,  e.g.,  a  story  account- 
ing for  the  origin  of  that  lake  is  told.  But  perhaps  many 
of  the  Makonde  and  Makua  traditions  have  by  this  time 
been  forgotten.  It  is  evident  that  they  have  led  a  very 
unsettled  life  for  the  past  forty  or  fifty  years,  besides  being 
decimated  by  the  slave-trade.  (This  circumstance,  by  the  by, 
should  always  be  remembered  in  connection  with  Dr.  Weule's 
pictures  of  native  life,  which  leave  a  painfully  squalid  impres- 
sion. I  am  far  from  wishing  to  idealize  the  "  state  of 
nature  "  ;  but  neither  the  Zulus,  nor  the  Anyanja,  nor  the 
Yaos  of  the  Shire  Highlands  are  so  ignorant  and  careless  of 
hygiene  or  so  neglectful  of  their  babies  as  the  poor  women  of 
Chingulungulu  and  Masasi  are  represented  by  him  to  be.) 

These  "  mysteries "  are  universal — or  practically  so — 
among  the  Bantu  tribes  of  Africa,  and  no  doubt  most  others 
as  well.  Usually  they  are  spoken  of  as  an  unmixed  evil,  which 
Christian  missionaries  do  all  in  their  power  to  combat,  and 
some  are  not  backward  in  calling  out  for  the  civil  power  (in 
countries  under  British  administration)  to  put  them  down. 
The  subject  is  a  difficult  and  far-reaching  one,  and  cannot 
adequately  be  discussed  here.  My  own  conviction,  which  I 
only  give  for  what  it  is  worth,  is  that  it  is  a  great  mistake  to 
interfere  with  an  institution  of  this  sort,  unless,  perhaps, 
when  the  people  themselves  are  ceasing  to  believe  in  it,  in 
which  case  there  is  danger  of  its  becoming  a  mere  excuse  for 
immorality.  Otherwise,  even  the  features  which  to  our 
feelings  seem  most  revolting  are  entwined  with  beliefs  rooted 
in  a  conception  of  nature,  which  only  the  gradual  advance  of 
knowledge  can  modify  or  overthrow.  And  we  must  remember 
that  the  problem  which  these  poor  people  have  tried  to  solve 
in  their  own  way  is  one  which  presses  hardly  on  civilized 
nations  as  well.  Parents  and  teachers  have  discovered  the 
evil  of  keeping  the  young  in  ignorance,  or  leaving  them  to 
discover  for  themselves  the  realities  of  life  ;  but  many  of  them 
appear  helplessly  perplexed  as  to  the  best  way  of  imparting 
that  instruction. 

As  regards  missions.  Dr.  Weule  has  not  very  much  to  say, 


INTRODUCTION 


XXlll 


but  I  am  sorry  to  find  that  he  cannot  refrain  from  the  cheap 
sneer  about  "  Christianity  not  suiting  the  native,"  which  seems 
to  be  fashionable  in  some  quarters.  It  seems  to  be  a  mere 
obiter  dictum  on  his  part — perhaps  unthinkingly  adopted 
from  others — for  he  brings  no  arguments  in  support  of  his  view, 
beyond  remarking  that  Islam  suits  the  African  much  better, 
as  it  does  not  interfere  with  his  freedom.  But  some  excuse 
may  be  found  for  those  who  hold  that  view  in  the  erroneous 
conceptions  of  Christianity  which  have  prompted  various 
mistakes  on  the  part  of  missionaries.  It  is  quite  true  that 
such  or  such  a  system  of  complicated  doctrinal  belief,  the 
product  of  long  ages  and  a  special  environment,  may  not  suit 
the  African.  It  is  also  true  that,  if  Christianity  means  Euro- 
peanisation — if  it  means  that  the  African  is  to  be  made  over 
into  a  bad  imitation  of  an  Englishman  or  German — it  is 
impossible  that  it  should  gain  any  real  hold  on  him.  But  it 
is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  no  people  on  earth  are  more 
capable — many  are  not  so  capable — of  appreciating  and  acting 
on  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  of  simple  love  and  trust  in  the 
Eternal  Goodness  -  and  goodwill  towards  their  fellow-men. 

The  question  is  a  wide  one,  which  cannot  be  fully  discussed 
within  these  limxits.  Missionaries  have  often  made  mistakes 
and  acted  injudiciously  ;  they  have  in  some  cases  done  serious 
harm,  not  from  failure  to  act  up  to  their  principles,  but  from 
error  in  those  very  principles  and  a  fatal  fidelity  to  them. 
They  may  have  interfered  between  chiefs  and  people,  and 
broken  dovm  customs  better  left  alone,  or  may  unwittingly 
have  encouraged  the  wrong  sort  of  converts  by  welcoming  all 
and  sundry,  including  fugitives  from  justice  or  people  dis- 
contented with  their  home  surroundings  for  reasons  quite 
unconnected  with  high  spiritual  aspirations.  Or  again,  they 
may  incur  blame  for  the  deficiencies  of  alleged  converts  who, 
after  honouring  the  mission  with  their  presence  for  a  time, 
depart  (usually  under  a  cloud)  and  victimise  the  first  European 
who  can  be  induced  to  employ  them. 

But  there  is  another  side  to  the  matter.  A  man — whether 
consciously  a  follower  of  the  Nietzschean  doctrine  or  not — 
who  thinks  that  "  the  lower  races  "  exist  to  supply  him  with 
labour  on  his  own  terms,  is  naturally  impatient  of  a  religion 
which  upholds  the  claims  of  the  weak,  and  recognizes  the 


XXIV 


INTRODUCTION 


status  of  man  as  man.  Hinc  illce  lacrymce,  in  a  good  many 
cases.  Honestly,  I  do  not  think  this  is  Dr.  Weule's  view.  But 
I  cannot  quite  get  rid  of  the  suspicion  that  he  was  repeating 
what  he  had  heard  from  a  planter,  and  that  it  was,  in  strict 
accuracy,  the  planter's  convenience,  and  not-  the  native,  that 
Christianity  failed  to  "  suit."  Anyone  who  has  read  a  certain 
pamphlet  by  Dr.  Oetker,  or  Herr  von  St.  Paul  Illaire's  Caveant 
Consules,  or  Herr  Woldemar  Schiitze's  Schwarz  gegen  Weiss 
will  not  think  this  remark  too  strong. 

It  would  be  deplorable,  indeed,  if  those  writers  had  to  be 
taken  as  typifying  the  spirit  of  German  colonial  administra- 
tion in  Africa,  or  indeed  anywhere  else.  But  I  do  not  think 
we  have  any  right  to  suppose  that  this  is  so.  There  has  been,  I 
think,  too  much  militarism — and  very  brutal  militarism,  in 
some  cases — in  that  administration  ;  but  this  is  an  evil  which 
appears  to  be  diminishing.  There  is  a  tendency,  perhaps,  to 
worry  the  native  with  over-minute  government  regulations, 
which,  no  doubt,  will  as  time  goes  on  be  corrected  by  experience. 
And  there  is  no  lack  of  humane  and  able  rulers  who  bring 
to  their  task  the  same  conscientious,  patient  labour  which 
their  countrymen  have  bestowed  on  scientific  research  ;  who 
are  trained  for  their  posts  with  admirable  care  and  thoroughness, 
and  grudge  no  amount  of  trouble  to  understand  and  do  justice 
to  the  people  under  their  care.  They  shall  in  no  wise  lose 
their  reward. 


A,  WERNER. 


CAPE  GUARDAFUI 


Native  Life  in  East  Africa 


CHAPTER  I 

OUTWARD  BOUND 

Dar  es  Salam,  Whit-Sunday,  1906. 

Six  months  ago  it  would  not  have  entered  my  head  in  my 
wildest  dreams  that  I  should  spend  my  favourite  festival, 
Whitsuntide,  under  the  shade  of  African  palms.  But  it  is  the 
fact,  nevertheless.  I  have  now  been  two  days  in  the  capital  of 
German  East  Africa,  a  spot  which  may  well  fascinate  even 
older  travellers  than  myself.  Not  that  the  scenery  is  strikingly 
grand  or  majestic — ^on  the  contrary,  lofty  mountain-masses 
and  mighty  rivers  are  conspicuous  by  their  absence,  and  the 
wide  expanse  of  the  open  ocean  contributes  nothing  directly 
to  the  picture,  for  Dar  es  Salam  lies  inland  and  has  no  sea- 
view  worth  mentioning.  The  charm  of  the  landscape  hes  rather 
in  one  of  the  happiest  combinations  of  flashing  waters,  bright 
foliage,  and  radiant  sunshine  that  can  be  imagined. 

The  entrance  to  the  harbour  gives  to  the  uninitiated  no  hint 
of  the  beauty  to  come.    A  narrow  channel,  choked  with  coral 


I— (2131) 


2 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


reefs,  and,  by  its  abrupt  turns,  making  severe  demands  on  the 
skill  of  the  pilot,  leads  to  the  central  point  of  a  shallow  bay 
which  seems  to  have  no  outlet.    Suddenly,  however,  the  vessel 
glides  past  this  central  point  into  an  extraordinarily 
narrow  channel,  with  steep  green  banks  on  either  side, 


w^iich  opens  out,  before  the  traveller  has  had  time  to  recover  from 
his  astonishment,  into  a  wide,  glittering  expanse,  covered  with 
ships.  That  is  the  famous  bay  of  Dar  es  Salam.  In  presence 
of  the  obvious  advantages  of  this  locality,  one  need  not  have 
lived  for  years  in  the  country  to  understand  why  the  Germans 
should  have  been  willing  to  give  up  the  old  caravan  emporium 
of  Bagamoyo  with  its  open  roadstead  for  this  splendid  harbour, 
and  thus  make  the  almost  unknown  native  village  of  Dar  es 
Salam  the  principal  place  in  the  colony.^ 

On  the  voyage  out,  I  visited  with  much  enjoyment  both 
Mombasa  and  Zanzibar,  though  unfortunately  prevented  by  an 
accident  (an  injury  to  my  foot)  from  going  ashore  at  the 
German  port  of  Tanga.  Of  these  two  English  centres,  Zanzibar 

1  The  first  to  recognise  the  importance  of  Dar  es  Salam  harbour  was 
Sayyid  IVIajid,  Sultan  of  Zanzibar,  who  determined  to  erect  a  residence 
there  and  divert  the  trade  of  the  interior  to  it.  The  town  was  laid  out 
on  a  large  scale,  and  buildings  begun,  when  the  Sultan's  death  in  1870 
put  an  end  to  the  operations.  His  successor,  Sayyid  Barghash,  disliked 
the  place,  and  the  unfinished  town  was  allowed  to  fall  into  ruins. — 
See  the  description  in  Thomson,  To  the  Central  African  Lakes  and  Back, 
vol.  i,  pp.  71-75.— [Tr.] 


DAR  ES  SALAM  HARBOUR 


MOMBASA  AND  ZANZIBAR 


3 


represents  the  past,  Mombasa  the  present,  and  still  more  the 
future.  It  is  true  that  Zanzibar  has  the  advantage  in  its  situa- 


NATIVE  DANCE  AT  DAR  ES  SALAM 

advantage  of  which  the  mainland  towns,  however  splendid 
their  future  development,  will  never  be  able  to  deprive  it,  since 
their  lines  of  communication,  both  economic  and  intellectual, 
will  always  converge  on  Zanzibar.  But  since  the  completion  of 
the  Uganda  Railway,  Mombasa  forms  the  real  gateway  to  the 
interior,  and  will  do  so  in  an  increasing  degree,  as  the  economic 
development  of  Central  Africa — now  only  in  its  infancy — goes 
on.  Whether  our  two  great  German  railways— as  yet  only 
projected — can  ever  recover  the  immense  advantage  gained 
by  Mombasa,  the  future  will  show.    We  must  hope  for  the  best. 

Mombasa  and  Zanzibar  interested  me  more  from  a  historical 
than  from  a  pohtical  point  of  view.  How  little  do  our  educated 
and  even  learned  circles  know  of  the  exploration  and  develop- 
ment, the  varied  political  fortunes  of  this  corner  of  the  earth 
on  the  western  shore  of  the  Indian  Ocean !  Only  specialists, 
indeed,  can  be  expected  to  know  that  this  year  is  the  jubilee 
of  the  French  Admiral  Guillain's  epoch-making  work,  Docu- 
ments sur  rHistoire,  la  Geographie,  et  le  Commerce  de  PAfrique 


4 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Orieiitalc,  but  it  is  extremely  distressing  to  find  that  our 
countryman,  Justus  Strandes'  Die  Portugiesenzeit  in  Deutsch- 
und  Englisch-Ostafrika  (1899)  is  not  better  known.  Most  of 
us  think  that  Eastern  Equatorial  Africa,  considered  as  a  field 
for  colonization,  is  as  much  virgin  soil  as  Togo,  Kamerun  and 

German  South- 

P    West  Africa,  or 

the  greater  part 
'of  our  posses- 

■■■^^^  '^^  xi    sions    in  the 

I^H^^^HR  South  Seas. 

^■^^Hp^''*  How  few  of  us 

-Mm^  realise  that, 

before  us  and 
before  the 
Ene^lish,  the 

STREET  IN   THE  NATIVE  QUARTER, 

Arabs  had,  a 

DAR  ES  SALAM  ' 

thousand  years 

ago,  shown  the  most  brilliant  capacity  for  gaining  and  keeping 
colonies,  and  that  after  them  the  Portuguese,  in  connection 
with  and  as  a  consequence  of  Vasco  da  Gama's  voyage  to 
India  round  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  in  1498,  occupied  an 
extensive  strip  of  the  long  coast,  and  maintained  their  hold 
on  it  for  centuries  ?  And  yet  these  events — these  struggles  for 
East  Africa  form  one  of  the  most  interesting  chapters  in  the 
history  of  modern  colonization.  Here  for  the  first  time  the 
young  European  culture-element  meets  with  an  Eastern 
opponent  worthy  of  its  steel.  In  fact  that  struggle  for  the 
north-western  shores  of  the  Indian  Ocean  stands  for  nothing 
less  than  the  beginning  of  that  far  more  serious  struggle  which 
the  white  race  has  waged  for  the  supremacy  over  the  earth  in 
general,  and  in  which  they  already  seemed  to  be  victorious, 
when,  a  few  years  ago,  the  unexpected  rise  of  Japan  showed 
the  fallacious  nature  of  the  belief  so  long  entertained,  and 
perhaps  also  the  opening  of  a  new  era. 

Anyone  who  does  not  travel  merely  for  the  sake  of  present 
impressions,  but  is  accustomed  to  see  the  past  behind  the 
phenomena  of  the  moment,  and,  like  myself,  leaves  the  area  of 
European  culture  with  the  express  object  of  using  his  results  to 
help  in  solving  the  great  problem  of  man's  intellectual  evolution 


THE  BAY  OF  NAPLES 


5 


in  all  its  details,  will  find  in  the  voyage  to  German  East  Africa 
a  better  opportunity  for  survey  and  retrospect  than  in  many 
other  great  routes  of  modern  travel. 

This  is  the  case  as  soon  as  one  has  crossed  the  Alps.  It  is 
true  that  even  the  very  moderate  speed  of  the  Italian  express 
gives  one  no  chance  for  anthropological  studies.  In  order  to 
observe  the  unmistakable  Teutonic  strain  in  the  population 
of  Northern  Italy,  it  would  be  necessary  to  traverse  the  plain 
of  Lombardy  at  one's  leisure.  But  already  in  the  Adige 
Valley,  and  still  more  as  one  advances  through  Northern  and 
Central  Italy,  the  stratification  of  successive  races  seems  to 
me  to  be  symbolized  by  the  three  strata  of  culture  visible  in 
the  fields  :  corn  below,  fruit-trees  planted  between  it,  and 
vines  covering  them  above.  Just  so  the  Lombards,  Goths  and 
other  nations,  superimposed  themselves  on  the  ancient  Italian 
and  Etruscan  stocks.  On  the  long  journey  from  Modena  to 
Naples,  it  is  borne  in  upon  one  that  the  Apennines  are  really 
the  determining  feature  of  the  whole  Italian  peninsula,  and 
that  the  Romans  were  originally  started  on  their  career  of 
conquest  by  want  of  space  in  their  own  country.  The  only 
place  which,  in  May,  1906,  produced  an  impression  of  spacious- 
ness was  the  Bay  of  Naples,  of  which  we  never  had  a  clear  view 
during  our  four  or  five  days'  stay.  A  faint  haze,  caused  by 
the  volcanic  dust  remaining  in  the  air  from  the  eruption  of  the 
previous  month,  veiled  all  the  distances,  while  the  streets  and 
houses,  covered  with  a  layer  of  ashes,  appeared  grey  on  a  grey 
background — a  depressing  and  incongruous  spectacle.  The 
careless  indolence  of  the  Neapolitans,  which  as  a  rule  strikes 
the  industrious  denizens  of  Central  Europe  as  rather  comical 
than  offensive,  requires  the  clear  sky  and  bright  sunshine, 
celebrated  by  all  travellers  (but  of  which  we  could  see  little 
or  nothing),  to  set  it  off. 

From  our  school-days  we  have  been  familiar  with  the  fact  that 
the  countries  bordering  the  Mediterranean — the  seats  of  ancient 
civilisation — are  now  practically  denuded  of  forests.  Yet  the 
landscape  of  Southern  Italy  and  Sicily  seems  to  the  traveller  still 
more  unfamiliar  than  that  of  the  northern  and  central  districts  ; 
it  is  even  more  treeless,  and  therefore  sharper  in  contour  than 
the  Etruscan  and  Roman  Apennines  and  the  Abruzzi.  But  the 
most  striking  feature  to  us  inhabitants  of  the  North-German 


6 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


plain  are  the  river-valleys  opening  into  the  Strait  of  Mes- 
sina, leading  up  by  steep  gradients  into  the  interior  of  the 
country.  At  this  season  they  seem  either  to  be  quite  dry  or  to 
contain  very  little  water,  so  that  they  are  calculated  to  produce 
the  impression  of  broad  highways.  But  how  terrible  must  be 
the  force  with  which  the  mass  of  water  collecting  in  the  torrent- 
bed  after  heavy  rains,  with  no  forest-soil  to  keep  it  back,  rushes 
down  these  channels  to  the  sea  !  To  the  right  and  left  of 
Reggio,  opposite  Messina,  numbers  of  sinuous  ravines  slope 
down  to  the  coast,  all  piled  high  with  debris  and  crossed  by 
bridges  whose  arches  have  the  height  and  span  of  the  loftiest 
railway  viaducts. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  anything  about  Port  Said  and 
the  Suez  Canal.  Entering  the  Red  Sea,  I  entered  at  the  same 
time  a  famihar  region — I  might  almost  say,  one  which  I  have 
made  peculiarly  my  own — it  having  fallen  to  my  share  to  wTite 
the  monographs  on  the  three  oceans  included  in  Helmolt's 
Weltgeschichte^  Of  these  monographs,  that  dealing  with  the 
Atlantic  seems,  in  the  opinion  of  the  general  reader,  to  be  the 
most  successful  ;  but  that  on  the  Indian  Ocean  is  undoubtedly 
more  interesting  from  the  point  of  view  of  human  history.  In 
the  first  place,  this  sea  has  this  advantage  over  its  eastern  and 
western  neighbours,  that  its  action  on  the  races  and  peoples 
adjacent  to  it  was  continued  through  a  long  period.  The 
Pacific  has  historic  peoples  (historic,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  some- 
what restricted  and  one-sided  sense  in  which  we  have  hitherto 
used  that  term)  on  its  north-western  margin,  in  eastern  Asia  ; 
but  the  rest  of  its  huge  circumference  has  remained  dead  and 
empty,  historically  speaking,  almost  up  to  the  present  day. 
The  Atlantic  exactly  reverses  these  conditions  :  its  historical 
density  is  limited  to  the  north-eastern  region,  the  west  coast 
of  Africa,  and  the  east  coast  of  the  Americas  being  (with  the 
exception  of  the  United  States)  of  the  utmost  insignificance 
from  a  historical  point  of  view. 

Now  the  Indian  Ocean  formed  the  connecting  link  between 
these  two  centres — the  Mediterranean  culture-circle  in  the  west, 
and  that  of  India  and  Eastern  Asia  in  the  east, — at  a  time  when 

^  Published  in  English  as  The  World' s  History  (4  vols.,  London,  1901) 
with  introduction  by  Professor  Bryce. 


THE  RED  SEA 


7 


both  Atlantic  and  Pacific  were  still  empty  and  untraversed 
wastes  of  water.  This,  however,  is  true,  not  of  the  whole 
Indian  Ocean,  but  only  as  regards  its  northern  part,  and  in 
particular  the  two  indentations  running  far  inland  in  a  north- 
westerly direction,  which  we  call  the  Red  Sea  and  the  Persian 
Gulf.  To-day,  when  we  carry  our  railways  across  whole 
continents,  and  even  mountain  ranges  present  no  insuperable 
obstacles  to  our  canals,  we  imagine  that  masses  of  land  as  wide 
as  the  Isthmus  of  Suez  or  the  much  greater  extent  of  the 
"  Syrian  Porte  " — the  route  between  the  Persian  Gulf  and  the 
Eastern  Mediterranean — must  have  been  absolute  deterrents 
to  the  sea-traffic  of  the  ancients.  In  a  sense,  indeed,  this  was 
the  case  ;  otherwise  so  many  ancient  rulers  would  not  have 
attempted  to  anticipate  us  in  the  construction  of  the  Suez 
Canal.  But  where  technical  skill  is  insufficient  to  overcome 
such  impediments,  and  where  at  the  same  time  the  demand 
for  the  treasures  of  the  East  is  so  enormous  as  it  was  in  classical 
and  mediaeval  times,  people  adapt  themselves  to  existing 
conditions  and  make  use  of  navigable  water  wherever  it  is  to 
be  found.  Only  thus  can  be  explained  the  uninterrupted 
navigation  of  the  Red  Sea  during  a  period  of  several  thousand 
years,  in  spite  of  its  dangerous  reefs  and  the  prevailing  winds, 
which  are  anything  but  favourable  to  sailing  vessels. 

Only  one  period  of  repose — one  might  almost  say,  of  en- 
chanted sleep — has  fallen  to  the  lot  of  the  Red  Sea.  This  was 
the  time  when  Islam,  just  awakened  to  the  consciousness  of 
its  power,  succeeded  in  laying  its  heavy  hand  on  the  transition 
zone  between  West  and  East.  With  the  cutting  of  the  Suez 
Canal,  the  last  shadow  of  this  ancient  barrier  has  disappeared, 
and  the  Red  Sea  and  North  Indian  Ocean  have  regained  at  a 
stroke,  in  fullest  measure,  their  old  place  in  the  common  life 
of  mankind. 

The  passengers  on  board  our  steamer,  the  Prinzregent,  were 
chiefly  German  and  English  ;  and  at  first  a  certain  constraint 
was  perceptible  between  the  members  of  the  two  nationalities, 
the  latter  of  whom  seemed  to  be  influenced  by  the  dread  and 
distrust  expressed  in  numerous  publications  of  the  last  few 
years.  Mr.  William  Le  Queux's  Invasion  of  1910  was  the  book 
most  in  demand  in  the  ship's  library. 

A  more  sociable  state  of  things  gradually  came  about  during 


8 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


the  latter  part  of  the  voyage  ;  and  this  largely  through  the 
agency  of  an  unpretending  instrument  forming  part  of  my 
anthropological  equipment.  One  day,  when  we  were  nearing 
the  Straits  of  Bab  el  Mandeb,  partly  in  order  to  relieve  the 
tedium  of  the  voyage,  and  partly  in  order  to  obtain  statistics 
of  comparative  strength,  I  produced  my  Collin's  dynamometer. 
This  is  an  oval  piece  of  polished  steel,  small  enough  to  be  held 
flat  in  the  hand  and  compressed  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
according  to  the  amount  of  force  expended,  the  pressure  being 
registered  by  means  of  cogged  wheels  acting  on  an  index  which 
in  its  turn  moves  a  second  index  on  a  dial-plate.  On  relaxing 
the  pressure,  the  first  index  springs  back  to  its  original  position, 
while  the  second  remains  in  the  position  it  has  taken  up  and 
shows  the  weight  in  kilogrammes  equivalent  to  the  pressure. 
The  apparatus,  really  a  medical  one,  is  well  adapted  for 
ascertaining  the  comparative  strength  of  different  races  ;  but 
its  more  immediate  usefulness  appears  to  lie  in  establishing 
cordial  relations  between  total  strangers  in  the  shortest  possible 
time.  On  that  particular  hot  morning,  I  had  scarcely  begun 
testing  my  own  strength,  when  all  the  English  male  passengers 
gathered  round  me,  scenting  some  form  of  sport,  which  never 
fails  to  attract  them,  young  or  old.  In  the  subsequent  peaceful 
rivalry  between  the  two  nations,  I  may  remark  that  our 
compatriots  by  no  means  came  off  worst ;  which  may  serve  to 
show  that  our  German  system  of  physical  training  is  not  so 
much  to  be  despised  as  has  been  recently  suggested  by  many 
competent  to  judge,  and  by  still  more  who  are  not  so  competent. 

In  his  general  attitude  on  board  ship,  the  present-day 
German  does  not,  so  far  as  my  observations  go,  contrast  in  the 
least  unfavourably  with  the  more  experienced  voyagers  of  other 
nationalities.  It  is  true  that  almost  every  Englishman  shows 
in  his  behaviour  some  trace  of  the  national  assumption  that 
the  supremacy  of  the  seas  belongs  to  him  by  right  of  birth. 
Our  existence,  however,  is  beginning  to  be  recognized — not 
out  of  any  strong  affection  for  "  our  German  cousins,"  but  as 
a  simple  matter  of  necessity.  If,  for  comfort  in  travel,  one 
must  have  recourse  to  German  ships ;  and  when,  at  home  and 
abroad,  there  is  a  German  merchant-fleet  and  a  German  navy 
to  be  reckoned  with,  the  first  of  which  keeps  up  an  assiduous 
competition,  while  the  second  is  slowly  but  steadily  increasing. 


A  LOSS  THAT  RANKLED 


9 


these  things  cannot  fail  to  impress  even  the  less  cultured 
members  of  the  British  nation.  Onty  one  thing  is,  and  will  be 
for  m.any  years  to  come,  calculated  to  make  us  ridiculous 
in  the  eyes  of  Old  England — and  that  is  the  Zanzibar  Treaty. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  looks  of  malicious  triumph  and  the 
sarcastic  condolences  which  greeted  us — the  unfortunate  con- 
temporaries of  the  late  Caprivi — when  we  came  in  sight  of 
Zanzibar.  My  friend  Hiram  Rhodes,  of  Liverpool,  the  ever- 
smiling  and  universally  popular,  usually  known  as  "  the  laugh- 
ing philosopher,"  from  his  cheerful  view  of  life,  was  not  as  a  rule 


MAP  OF  THE  MAIN  CARAVAN   ROAD,   WITH  ITS  PRINCIPAL  BRANCHES.  DRAWN 
BY   SABATELE,   A  MMAMBWE 

given  to  sharp  sayings,  but  with  regard  to  the  famous  political 
transaction,  I  distinctly  remember  to  have  heard  him  use  the 
expression,  "  Children  in  politics."  Caustic,  but  not  unde- 
served !  Another  remark  of  his,  after  viewing  Dar  es  Salam  : 
"  That  is  the  finest  colony  I  have  ever  seen  !  "  served,  it  is 
true,  as  a  touch  of  heahng  balm — but  no  amount  of  conciliatory 
speeches  w^ill  give  us  back  Zanzibar  ! 

The  object  of  the  journey  on  wliich  I  have  embarked  may 
now  be  briefly  stated.  Several  decades  since,  and  therefore 
before  the  beginning  of  our  colonial  era,  the  Reichstag  voted  an 
annual  grant  of  some  200,000  marks  for  purposes  of  scientific 
research  in  Africa — purely  in  the  interests  of  knowledge  and 
without  any  ulterior  intentions  from  a  narrowly  nationalist 
point  of  view.  One  might  have  expected  that,  after  the  establish- 
ment of  our  settlements  in  Africa  and  the  Pacific,  this  fund 


10 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


would  unhesitatingly  have  been  devoted,  wholly  or  in  part,  to 
the  systematic  exploration  and  study  of  these  colonies  of  ours. 
But  this  has  not  been  done,  or  only  in  a  very  uncertain  and  desul- 


Congress  in  1902  that  a  more  vigorous  agitation  took  place  for 
the  application  of  the  African  Fund  on  a  large  scale  to  the 
systematic  investigation  of  our  dependencies.  From 
specialists  in  all  branches  of  knowledge — geography  and 
geology,  anthropology  and  ethnography,  zoology  and 
botany,  linguistics,  comparative  law,  and  the  new  science 
of  comparative  music — arose  the  same  cry,  with  the 
result  that,  three  years  later,  at  the  second  Colonial  Congress 
(October,  1905),  we  were  in  a  position  to  state  clearly  the  most 
pressing  problems  and  mark  out  the  principal  fields  of  research 
in  each  subject.  It  might,  however,  have  taken  years  to 
put  the  work  in  hand,  but  for  the  "  Committee  for  the 
Geographical  Exploration  of  the  German  Colonies,"  and 
its  energetic  president,  Dr.  Hans  Meyer,  who  rescued  the 
proceedings  from  their  normal  condition  of  endless  discussions, 
and  translated  them  at  one  stroke  into  action.  Dr.  Jager, 
Herr  Eduard  Oehler,  and  myself  are  the  living  proofs  of  this 


tory  manner — 
to  the  great  grief 
of  Ge  rman 
scientific  circles, 
who,  under 
these  circum- 
stances, were 
forced  to  con- 
tent themselves 
with  the  occa- 
sional reports 
of  civil  and 
military  officials 
supplemented 
by  sporadic  re- 
search expedi- 
tions, official  or 
private. 


COURTYARD  AT  DAR  Es  SALAM — Dolce  far  nieute 


It  was  not  till 
thefirstColonial 


THE  USE  OF  A  TELESCOPE 


11 


(in  our  country)  unwonted  rapidity  of  decision,  being  selected 
to  carry  out  the  instructions  of  the  Committee  (which  is 
afhhated  to  the  Colonial  Ofhce)  and  help  to  reahse  the 
long-cherished  dream  of  German  science. 

The  task  of  the  two  gentlemen  I  have  mentioned  is  purely 
geographical,  consisting  in  the  examination  of  the  interesting 
volcanic  area  situated  between  Kilimanjaro  and  the  Victoria 
Nyanza,  while  I  am  commissioned  to  bring  some  order  into  the 
chaos  of  our  knowledge  concerning  the  tribes  who  occupy 
approximately  the  same  region.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
the  country  surrounding  Lakes  Manyara  and  Eyasi,  and 
extending  to  a  considerable  distance  south  of  them,  swarms 
with  tribes  and  peoples  who,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  our 
acquaintance  with  them  dates  more  than  twenty  years  back, 
still  present  a  variety  of  ethnological  problems.  Among  these 
tribes  are  the  Wasandawi,  whose  language  is  known  to  contain 
clicks  like  those  of  the  Hottentots  and  Bushmen,  and  who  are 
conjectured  to  be  the  forgotten  remnant  of  a  primaeval  race 
going  back  to  prehistoric  ages.  The  Wanege  and  Wakindiga, 
nomadic  tribes  in  the  vicinity  of  Lake  Eyasi,  are  said  to  be 
akin  to  them.  In  the  whole  mass  of  African  literature,  a 
considerable  part  of  which  I  have  examined  during  my  twenty 
years'  study  of  this  continent,  the  most  amusing  thing  I  ever 
came  across  is  the  iact  that  our  whole  knowledge  up  to  date  of 
these  Wakindiga  actually  results  from  the  accident  that  Captain 
Werther  had  a  field-glass  in  his  hand  at  a  given  moment.  This 
brilliant  traveller,  who  traversed  the  district  in  question  twice 
(in  1893  and  1896),  heard  of  the  existence  of  these  people,  but 
all  that  he  saw  of  them  was  a  distant  telescopic  view  of  a  few 
huts.  As  yet  we  know  no  more  of  them  than  their  bare  name, 
conscientiously  entered  in  every  colonial  or  ethnological 
publication  that  makes  its  appearance. 

Another  group  of  as  yet  insufficiently-defined  tribes  is 
represented  by  the  Wafiomi,  Wairaku,  Wawasi,  Wamburu  and 
Waburunge.  All  these  are  suspected  of  being  Hamites,  and 
some  of  them  have  evolved  remarkable  culture-conditions 
of  their  own.  But,  under  the  onrush  of  new  developments, 
they  are  in  danger  of  losing  their  distinctive  character  still 
more  rapidly  than  other  African  peoples,  and,  if  only  for  this 
reason,  systematic  observations  are  needed  before  it  is  too  late. 


12 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


The  same  may  be  said  of  the  Wataturu  or  Tatoga,  who  are 
undoubtedly  to  be  looked  on  as  the  remnant  of  a  formerly 
numerous  population.  They  are  said  to  speak  a  language 
related  to  Somali,  but  now  live  scattered  over  so  wide  a  terri- 
tory that  the  danger  of  their  being  effaced  by  absorption  in 
other  races  is,  if  possible,  still  greater  than  in  the  case  of  the 
others.  The  last  of  the  tribes  which  specially  concern  me  are 
the  Wanyaturu,  Wairangi  and  Wambugwe.  All  of  these 
belong  to  the  great  Bantu  group,  but  have,  in  consequence  of 


IX    THE   EUROPEAN   QUARTER,    DAR  ES  SALAM 


their  isolation,  preserved  certain  peculiarities  of  culture  so 
faithfully  that  they  too  will  be  well  worth  a  visit. 

With  regard  to  the  original  home  of  the  African  race,  this 
is  a  question  to  which  ethnologists  have  not  hitherto  devoted 
very  much  attention.  The  Hamites,  who  occupy  the  north- 
eastern corner  of  the  continent,  are  supposed  by  all  writers 
without  exception  to  have  come  from  Asia  across  the  Red  Sea. 
Most  authorities  have  been  content  with  comparatively  short 
periods  in  estimating  the  date  of  this  migration — indeed,  the 
most  recent  work  on  the  subject.  Captain  Merker's  book  on 
the  Masai  (w^hom,  by  the  bye,  he  claims  as  Semites)  asserts 
that  both  date  and  route  can  be  accurately  calculated,  and 
places  the  former  about  5,000  years  ago. 

Not  only  for  these,  moreover,  but  also  for  the  great  mass  of 
the  population  of  Africa,  the  Sudanese  and  Bantu  negroes,  an 
original  home  outside  the  continent  is  very  generally  assumed ; 


AN  UNSOLVED  PROBLEM 


13 


and  both  these  groups  are  supposed  to  have  penetrated  to 
their  present  abodes  from  Asia,  either  by  way  of  the  Isthmus 
of  Suez,  or  across  the  Straits  of  Bab  el  Mandeb. 

This  theory  I  had  the  pleasure  of  combating  some  years  ago. 
There  is  absolutely  nothing  to  show  that  the  ancestors  of  the 
present  negro  race  ever  lived  elsewhere  than  in  the  region 
which,  in  the  main,  they  occupy  to-day.  No  branch  of  this 
large  group  can  be  shown  to  have  possessed  any  nautical 
skill  worth  mentioning ;  and  none  has  ever  ventured  far  out 
to  sea. 

It  may  be  said  that  no  great  knowledge  of  navigation  was 
needed  for  crossing  the  Strait  of  Bab  el  ]\Iandeb,  even  if  the 
migration  did  not  take  place  by  way  of  the  Isthmus.  The 
problem,  however,  is  by  no  means  to  be  solved  in  this  simple 
fashion.  Modern  anthropology  demands  for  human  evolution 
periods  as  long  as  for  that  of  the  higher  animals.  Diluvial  Man 
has  long  since  been  recognized  by  our  most  rigid  orthodoxy, 
and  people  would  have  to  get  used  to  Tertiary  Man,  even  if 
the  necessities  of  the  case  did  not  make  him  an  indispensable 
postulate.  As  the  youth  of  mankind  recedes  into  early  geo- 
logical periods,  the  problem  of  race-development  is  seen  to 
require  for  its  solution  not  merely  measurements  of  skull  and 
skeleton,  but  the  vigorous  co-operation  of  palaeontology  and 
historical  geology.  So  far  as  I  can  judge,  the  sciences  in 
question  wiU  probably  end  by  agreeing  on  three  primitive  races, 
the  white,  black  and  yellow,  each  having  its  centre  of  develop- 
ment on  one  of  the  old  primitive  continents.  Such  a  continent 
in  fact  existed  through  long  geological  ages  in  the  Southern 
Hemisphere.  A  large  fragment  of  it  is  represented  by  modern 
Africa,  smaller  ones  by  Australia  and  the  archipelagos  of 
Indonesia  and  Papua.  The  distribution  of  the  black  race  from 
Senegambia  in  the  west  to  Fiji  in  the  east  is  thus  explained  in 
a  way  that  seems  ridiculously  easy. 

To  account  for  the  great  groups  of  mixed  races,  too,  we  must 
for  the  future,  in  my  opinion,  have  recourse  to  the  geological 
changes  of  the  earth's  surface.  Whence  do  we  derive  the 
Hamites  ?  and  what,  after  all,  do  we  understand  by  this  term, 
which,  curiously  enough,  denotes  a  zone  of  peoples  exactly 
filling  up  the  geographical  gap  between  the  white  and  black 
races  ?    Furthermore,  how  are  we  to  explain  the  so-caUed 


14  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Ural-Altaic  race,  that  mass  of  peoples  so  difficult  to  define, 
occupying  the  space  between  the  primitive  Mongol  element  in 
the  East  and  the  Caucasian  in  the  West  ?  Does  not,  here  too, 
the  thought  suggest  itself  that  the  impulse  to  the  development 
of  both  groups — the  North  African  as  well  as  the  North  Asiatic 
— came  from  a  long-continued  contact  between  the  ancient 
primitive  races  which,  according  to  the  position  of  affairs,  i.e., 
judging  by  the  geological  changes  which  have  taken  place, 
both  in  the  south-eastern  corner  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  in 
the  east  of  Northern  Europe — was  only  rendered  possible  by  the 
junction  of  the  old  continents  formerly  separated  by  seas  ? 
In  fact  the  land  connection  in  both  these  places  is,  geologically 
speaking,  very  recent. 

To  come  back  from  dreary  theory  to  cheerful  reality,  I  may 
mention  that  I  have  taken  a  few  successful  photographs  of 
Cape  Guardafui.  From  the  north  this  promontory  does  not 
look  very  imposing.  The  coast  seems  quite  near,  but  in  reality 
we  are  five  or  six  miles  away  from  it,  and  at  this  distance  the 
cliffs,  though  nearly  a  thousand  feet  high,  are  reduced  to 
insignificance. 

The  view  from  the  south  is  more  impressive.  Here,  on  our 
right,  the  mountains  rise  in  an  almost  vertical  wall  to  a  height 
of  some  3,000  feet,  and  often  look  still  higher,  when  their 
summits  are  lost  in  a  compact  stratum  of  cloud.  Yet  the  eye 
always  turns  back  again  and  again  to  the  Cape  itself.  It  does 
not  indeed  appear  more  lofty  than  it  did  from  the  north,  but 
from  this  side  it  presents,  even  to  the  least  imaginative  observer, 
the  shape  known  to  all  travellers  as  the  "  Sleeping  Lion."  I 
am  not  in  general  particularly  impressed  by  the  fancied 
resemblances  which  as  a  rule  give  rise  to  the  bestowal  of 
similar  appellations,  but  here  I  was  struck  by  the  absolute 
verisimilitude  of  this  piece  of  natural  sculpture.  The  mighty 
maned  head  lies  low,  seemingly  resting  on  the  dark  blue  line 
of  the  Indian  Ocean,  the  right  fore-paw  drawn  up  close  to  it. 
But  the  royal  beast's  eyes  are  closed,  and  what  a  splendid 
piece  of  symbolism  is  thus  lost  to  us  !  As  it  is,  the  image 
presented  to-day  is  a  somewhat  tame  one.  In  old  times,  while 
the  lion  was  awake,  he  watched  over  the  busy  maritime  traffic 
which  the  later  period  of  antiquity  and  the  early  Middle  Ages 
kept  up  before  his  eyes,  when  Phoenicians,  Himyarites,  Greeks, 


WRECKERS'  PROFITS 


15 


Romans,  Arabs,  and  Persians  sailed  eastward  and  southward, 
and  the  mediaeval  Chinese  advanced  from  the  east  as  far  as  the 
Gulf  of  Aden,  and  even  into  the  Red  Sea.  That  was  a  time 
when  it  was  worth  while  to  keep  awake.  Then  came  Islam 
and  the  rule  of  the  Turk — and,  stiU  later,  the  circumnavigation 
of  the  Cape  rendered  the  Egyptian  and  Syrian  overland  routes 
useless.  The  Red  Sea  and  the  Persian  Gulf  sank  into  a 
stagnation  that  lasted  for  centuries — and  the  Lion  grew  weary 
and  fell  asleep. 

Even  the  enormous  traffic  brought  by  the  opening  of  the 
Suez  Canal  has  not  been  sufficient  to  wake  him  ;  the  world  is 
ruled  by  vis  inertice,  and  a  scant  forty  years  is  all  too  short  a 
time  for  the  sounds  of  life  to  have  penetrated  his  slumbers. 
For  that,  other  means  will  be  required. 

There  is  an  Italian  captain  on  board,  a  splendid  figure  of 
a  man,  but  suffering  sadly  from  the  effects  of  spear-wounds 
received  from  the  Ab3^ssinians  at  Adowa.  I  asked  him  the 
other  day  why  his  Government  had  not  placed  a  hghthouse  on 
Cape  Guardafui,  which,  as  rulers  of  the  country  they  were 
surely  bound  to  do.  He  acknowledged  that  this  was  so,  but 
pointed  out  that  the  attempt  to  carry  out  any  such  project 
would  involve  a  difficult  and  expensive  campaign  against  the 
Somali,  who  would  by  no  means  tamely  submit  to  lose  the 
profits  of  their  trade  as  wreckers. 

No  doubt  the  captain  was  right,  but  Italy  cannot  in  the 
long  run  refuse  to  comply  with  the  international  obligation  of 
erecting  a  lighthouse  on  this  exposed  spot,  where  even  now 
may  be  seen  the  melancholy  black  hull  of  a  French  steamer, 
which,  coming  up  the  coast  on  a  dark  night,  took  the  westerly 
turn  too  soon.  But  from  the  moment  when  this  lighthouse  throws 
its  rays  for  the  first  time  over  the  waves  of  the  Indian  Ocean,  the 
Lion  wiU  awake,  and  feel  that  his  time  has  come  once  more. 

The  monsoon  is  a  welcome  change,  after  the  enervating 
atmosphere  of  the  Red  Sea  and  the  Gulf  of  Aden,  but  for  any 
length  of  time  its  monotony  becomes  tedious.  Hence  the  loud 
rejoicing  of  passengers  on  sighting  Mombasa  and  Zanzibar  and 
the  speed  with  which  they  rush  on  shore  at  those  ports.  At 
Dar  es  Salam  the  first  freshness  has  worn  off  a  little,  but  the 
traveller  nevertheless  sets  foot  on  dry  land  with  an  indefinable 
feeling  of  rehef. 


LINDI  BAY 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  UNEXPECTED 

LiNDi,   End  of  June,  1906. 

Africa  !  Africa  !  When,  in  past  years,  men  told  me  that  in 
Africa  it  is  no  use  making  plans  of  any  sort  beforehand,  I 
always  looked  on  this  opinion  as  the  quintessence  of  stupidity  ; 
but  after  my  recent  experiences  I  am  quite  in  a  position  to 
appreciate  its  truth. 

I  must  go  back  to  the  11th  of  June.  The  two  geographers 
and  I  had  fixed  our  departure  northward  for  the  20th  ;  after 
getting  together  the  necessary  men  and  baggage  we  intended 
to  take  the  steamer  to  Tanga,  and  the  Usambara  railway 
from  Tanga  to  Mombo,  so  as  to  start  from  the  Pangani  Valley 
on  our  march  across  the  Masai  steppe  to  Kondoa-Irangi. 
Our  preparations  were  going  on  in  the  most  satisfactory 
manner  ;  and  I  was  one  morning  doing  my  best  to  hasten 
them  in  Traun,  Stiirken  and  Devers'  stores,  by  exercising  that 
persistency  in  bargaining  which  can  only  be  acquired  by  the 
director  of  an  ethnographical  museum.  I  had  not  been  listen- 
ing to  the  conversation  going  on  beside  me  between  one  of 
the  salesmen  and  a  European  officer  of  the  Field  Force;  but 
suddenly  the  name  Kondoa-Irangi  fell  on  my  ear,  and  I  w^as  all 
attention  on  the  instant.    "  I  suppose  you  are  going  home  by 

16 


AN  ABANDONED  PROJECT 


17 


the  to-morrow  ?  "  said  one.    "  No  such  luck  !    we  are 

marching  to-morrow  afternoon.  Didn't  I  just  say  there's  a 
rising  in  Iraku  ?  "  returned  the  other. 

Kondoa-Irangl  and  Iraku  concerned  me  closely  enough 
to  necessitate  farther  inquiry.  Half  instinctively,  I  flung 
myself  out  at  the  door  and  into  the  dazzling  sunshine  which 
flooded  the  street.  At  that  moment  Captain  Merker's  mule- 
waggon  rattled  up,  and  his  voice  reached  me  over  the  woolly 
heads  of  the  passers-by.  "  Stop,  Dr.  Weule,  you  can't  go  to 
Kondoa-Irangi." 

Though  not  in  general  endowed  with  presence  of  mind  in  any 
extraordinary  degree,  I  must  in  this  instance  have  thought 
with  lightning  speed,  for  no  sooner  had  I  taken  my  place 
beside  Merker,  in  order  to  proceed  without  loss  of  time  to  the 
Government  offices  and  ask  for  fuller  explanations,  than  I 
had  already  gone  through  in  my  mind  the  various  possible 
alternatives,  in  case  it  turned  out — as  seemed  probable — that 
I  had  to  give  up  all  thought  of  the  Irangi  expedition.  In  those 
— to  me — critical  days  at  Dar  es  Salam,  there  was  no  one 
acquainted  with  the  circumstances  but  would  have  said,  "  Get 
out  !  the  Iraku  rising  is  no  rising  at  all — it  is  a  mere  trifle,  a 
quarrel  about  a  couple  of  oxen,  or  something  of  the  sort — in 
any  case  an  affair  that  will  soon  be  settled."  None  the  less  I 
had  to  admit  that  the  Acting  Governor  (Geheimrat  Haber,  of 
whose  unfailing  kindness  I  cannot  say  enough)  was  right 
when  he  pointed  out  that,  while  a  geographer  could  traverse 
that  district  at  his  ease,  regardless  of  the  four  columns  of  the 
native  Field  Force  (Schutztruppc)  marched  into  it,  along  roads 
converging  from  Moshi,  Mpapwa,  Kihmatinde  and  Tabora 
respectively,  the  case  was  totally  different  for  an  ethnographic 
expedition,  which  can  only  do  its  work  in  a  perfectly  undisturbed 
country.  This  condition  would  not  be  attainable  up  North 
for  some  time  to  come.  Would  it  not  be  better  to  turn  south- 
ward, to  the  hinterland  of  Lindi  and  Mikindani  ?  True,  a 
rising  had  taken  place  there  not  long  ago,  but  it  was  now  quite 
over,  and  the  Wamwera,  more  especially,  had  got  a  very 
effectual  thrashing,  so  that  the  tribes  of  that  part  would  be 
unlikely  to  feel  disposed  for  fresh  aggression  just  at  present. 
At  the  same  time,  a  comparatively  large  force  had  marched 
into  the  South,  both  Field  Force  and  police,  and  the  most 

2  — (2131) 


18 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


important  strategic  points  were  strongly  garrisoned,  so  that 
I  could  be  certain  of  getting  a  sufficient  escort  ;  while  for  the 
Manyara  country  I  could  only  reckon  on  a  couple  of  recruits 
at  the  outside. 

My  long-continued  study  of  African  races  never  rendered 
me  a  better  service  than  now.  It  can  easily  be  understood 
that  I  knew  less  about  the  new  field  of  work  suggested  than 
about  that  which  had  been  so  rudely  snatched  from  me  ; 
but  I  was  aware  that  it  contained  a  conglomeration  of  tribes 
similar  to  that  found  in  the  North  :   and  I  was  also  able  to 


THE  SS.   AVV-VJ/,    DRAWN   BY   BAKARl,    A  MSWAHILI 


form  a  fairly  definite  notion  of  the  way  in  which  I  should  have 
to  plan  and  carry  out  my  new  expedition,  in  order  to  bring  it 
to  a  successful  issue.  I  refrained,  however,  from  thinking 
out  the  new  plan  in  detail — indeed,  I  should  have  had  no  time 
to  do  so,  for  I  had  to  be  quick  if  I  did  not  wish  to  lose  several 
weeks.  The  permission  of  the  Geographical  Committee  and 
of  the  Colonial  Office  was  soon  secured,  my  loads  were  packed  ; 
two  boys  and  a  cook  had  been  enga.ged  long  before.  The 
httle  Government  steamer  Rufiji  was  to  start  for  the  South 
on  the  19th  of  June.  I  induced  the  Government  to  supply 
me  on  the  spot  with  the  only  map  of  the  southern  district 
at  that  time  procurable,  and  with  equal  promptitude  the 
admirably-managed  "  Central-Magazin  "  had  found  me  two 


20  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


dozen  sturdy  Wanyamwezi  porters.  Other  absolutely  indis- 
pensable arrangements  were  speedily  disposed  of,  and  before 
I  had  time  to  look  round,  I  found  myself  on  board  and  steaming 
out  of  Dar  es  Salam  Harbour. 

I  had  never  for  one  moment  cherished  the  illusion  that  a 
research  expedition  was  a  pleasure-trip,  but  the  three  days 
and  a  quarter  spent  on  board  the  Rufiji  will  remain  a  vivid 
memory,  even  should  my  experience  of  the  interior  prove 
worse  than  I  anticipate.  My  own  want  of  foresight  is  partly 
to  blame  for  this.  Instead  of  having  a  good  breakfast  at  the 
Dar  es  Salam  Club  before  starting,  I  allowed  the  ship's  cook 
to  set  before  me  some  coffee,  which  in  combination  with  the 
clammy,  ill-baked  bread  and  rancid  tinned  butter  would  have 
proved  an  effectual  emetic  even  on  dry  land,  and  soon  brought 
about  the  inevitable  catastrophe  on  board  the  little  vessel 
madly  rolling  and  pitching  before  a  stiff  south-west  monsoon. 
The  Rufiji  and  her  sister  ship  the  Rovuma  are  not,  properly 
speaking,  passenger  steamers,  but  serve  only  to  distribute  the 
mails  along  the  coast  and  carry  small  consignments  of  cargo. 
Consequently  there  is  no  accommodation  for  travellers,  who 
have  to  climb  the  bridge  when  they  come  on  board,  and  live, 
cat,  drink,  and  sleep  there  till  they  reach  their  destination. 
This  is  all  very  well  so  long  as  the  numbers  are  strictly  limited  : 
there  is  just  room  at  night  for  two  or  three  camp  beds,  an  item 
which  has  to  be  brought  with  you  in  any  case,  as  without  it 
no  travel  is  possible  in  East  Africa.  But  the  state  of  things 
when  six  or  eight  men,  and  perhaps  even  a  lady,  have  to  share 
this  space,  which  is  about  equal  to  that  of  a  moderate-sized 
room — the  imagination  dare  not  picture. 

My  own  woes  scarcely  permitted  me  to  think  about  the 
w^elfare  of  my  men.  Moritz  and  Kibwana,  my  two  boys 
and  my  cook,  Omari,  are  travelled  gentlemen  who  yielded 
themselves  with  stoic  calm  to  the  motion  of  the  Rufiji,  but  my 
Wanyamwezi  porters  very  soon  lost  their  usual  imperturb- 
able cheerfulness.  They  all  came  on  board  in  the  highest  spirits, 
boasting  to  the  kinsmen  they  left  behind  at  Dar  es  Salam 
of  the  way  in  which  they  were  going  to  travel  and  see  the 
world.  How  the  twenty-four  managed  to  find  room  in  the 
incredibly  close  quarters  of  the  after-deck,  which  they  had, 
moreover,  to  share  with  two  or  three  horses,  is  still  a  puzzle 


THE  RUFIJI  RIVER 


21 


to  me  ;  they  were  sitting  and  lying  literally  on  the  top  of  one 
another.  As  they  were  sick  the  whole  time,  it  must,  indeed, 
have  been  a  delightful  passage  for  all  of  them. 

There  is  something  strangely  rigid,  immovable  and  conserva- 
tive about  this  old  continent.  We  were  reminded  of  this  by  the 
Lion  of  Cape  Guardafui,  and  now  we  find  it  confirmed  even  by 
the  official  regulations  of  steamer  traffic.  The  ancients,  as  we 
know,  only  sailed  by  day,  and  savages,  who  are  not  very  well 
skilled  in  navigation,  always  moor  their  sea-going  craft  off  shore 
in  the  evening.  We  Europeans,  on  the  other  hand,  consider 
it  one  of  our  longest-standing  and  highest  achievements  to  be 
independent  both  of  weather  and  daylight  in  our  voyages. 
To  this  rule  the  Rovuma  and  Riifiji  form  one  of  the  rare  excep- 
tions ;  they  always  seek  some  sheltered  anchorage  shortly 
before  sunset,  and  start  again  at  daybreak  the  next  morning. 

On  the  trip  from  Dar  es  Salam  to  Lindi  and  Mikindani — 
the  South  Tour,  as  it  is  officially  called — the  first  harbour  for 
the  night  is  Simba  Uranga,  one  of  the  numerous  mouths  of  the 
great  Rufiji  river.  The  entrance  to  this  channel  is  not  without 
charm.  At  a  great  distance  the  eye  can  perceive  a  gap  in  the 
green  wall  of  mangroves  which  characterizes  the  extensive 
delta.  Following  the  buoys  which  mark  the  fairway,  the  little 
vessel  makes  for  the  gap,  not  swiftly  but  steadily.  As  we 
approach  it  opens  out — to  right  and  left  stretches  the  white 
line  of  breakers,  foaming  over  the  coral  reefs  which  skirt  the 
coast  of  Eastern  Equatorial  Africa — and,  suddenly,  one  is 
conscious  of  having  escaped  from  the  open  sea  and  found 
refuge  in  a  quiet  harbour.  It  is  certainly  spacious  enough — 
the  river  flows,  calm  and  majestic,  between  the  green  walls 
of  its  banks,  with  a  breadth  of  600,  or  even  800  metres,  and 
stretches  away  into  the  interior  farther  than  the  eye  can 
follow  it.  The  anchorage  is  about  an  hour's  steam  up  river. 
On  the  right  bank  stands  a  saw-mill,  closed  some  time  ago  : 
its  forsaken  buildings  and  rusting  machinery  furnishing  a 
melancholy  illustration  of  the  fallacious  hopes  with  which  so 
many  Colonial  enterprises  were  started.  Just  as  the  sun  sinks 
below  the  horizon,  the  screw  ceases  its  work,  the  anchor- 
chain  rattles  through  the  hawse-holes,  and  the  Rufiji  is  made 
fast  for  the  night.  Her  furnace,  which  burns  wood,  is  heated 
with  mangrove  logs,  cut  in  the  forests  of  the  Delta  and  stacked 


22 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


at  this  spot  ready  for  transference  on  board.  This  work  is 
usually  done  under  the  superintendence  of  a  forester,  whom 
I  am  sorry  not  to  see,  he  being  absent  up  country.  His  life 
may  be  leisurely,  but  scarcely  enviable  ;  for  we  are  speedily 
surrounded,  even  out  in  mid-stream,  by  dense  clouds  of  mos- 
quitoes, which,  I  fancy,  will  hardly  be  less  abundant  on  land. 
The  swabbing  of  the  decks  on  an  ocean  steamer,  in  the  early 
morning,  just  at  the  time  when  sleep  is  sweetest,  is  represented 
on  the  Ruftji  by  the  wooding  in  the  Simba  Uranga  River, 
and  the  shipping  of  cargo  in  the  open  roadstead  of  Kilwa. 
In  the  two  nights  passed  on  board,  I  got  very  little  sleep, 
between  the  incessant  bumping  of  loads  thrown  down  on  deck, 
and  the  equally  incessant  yelling  of  the  crew.  There  was 
little  compensation  for  this,  either  in  the  magnificent  sunset 
witnessed  on  the  Simba  Uranga,  or  the  wonderfully  impressive 
spectacle  we  enjoyed  when  steaming  out  in  the  early  morning. 
Nothing  could  have  revived  us  but  the  fresh  breeze  of  the 
monsoon  on  the  open  sea.  No  sooner,  however,  were  we 
outside  than  Neptune  once  more  demanded  his  tribute.  I  do 
not  know  whether  a  healthy  nervous  system  would  have  been 
affected  by  the  Rufiji's  mode  of  stoking — and  if  so,  how-- 
but  to  us  three  sea-sick  passengers,  who  had  to  share  the 
amenities  of  the  bridge  as  far  as  Kilwa,  it  was  simply  intoler- 
able. Of  the  two  boats,  the  Rovuma,  at  any  rate,  has  a  diges- 
tion sufficiently  robust  to  grapple  with  the  thirty-inch  lengths 
of  mangrove-wood,  thrown  into  her  furnaces  just  as  they  are. 
The  Rufiji,  however,  has  a  more  delicate  constitution,  and  can 
only  assimilate  food  in  small  pieces.  With  the  first  glimmer 
of  daybreak,  the  heavy  hammer,  wielded  by  the  strong  right 
arm  of  a  muscular  baharia,  crashes  down  on  the  steel  wedge 
held  in  position  by  another  native  sailor  on  the  first  of  the 
mangrove-logs.  Blow  after  blow  shakes  the  deck ;  the  tough 
wood  creaks  and  groans  ;  at  last  the  first  morsel  has  been 
chopped  up  for  the  ravenous  boiler,  and  the  fragments  describe 
a  lofty  parabola  in  their  flight  into  the  tiny  engine-room. 
Then  comes  another  crash  which  makes  the  whole  boat  vibrate, 
— and  so  on,  hour  after  hour,  throughout  the  whole  day. 
Not  till  evening  do  the  men's  arms  rest,  and  our  sea-sick 
brains  hail  the  cessation  of  work  with  sincere  thankfulness, 
for  the  continuous  rhythm  of  the  hammer,  which  seems  quite 


A  QUESTION  OF  SUPPLY 


23 


tolerable  for  the  first  hour,  becomes,  in  the  eleven  which  follow 
it,  the  most  atrocious  torture. 

My  black  followers  behaved  exactly  as  had  been  foretold 
to  me  by  those  best  acquainted  with  the  race.  At  Dar  es 
Salam  each  of  the  twenty-seven  had  received  his  posho,  i.e., 
the  means  of  buying  rations  for  four  days.  At  Simba  Uranga, 
the  mnyampara  (headman)  came  to  me  with  a  request  that  I 
should  buy  more  provisions  for  himself  and  his  twenty-three 
subordinates,  as  they  had  already  eaten  all  they  had.  The 
complete  lack  of  purchasable  supplies  in  the  forest  saved  me 
the  necessity  of  a  refusal, — as  it  also  did  in  the  case  of  Moritz, 
who,  with  his  refined  tastes,  insisted  on  having  some  fish, 
and  whom,  with  a  calm  smile,  I  projected  down  the  bridge 
ladder.  That  is  just  like  these  improvident  children  of  the 
Dark  Continent ;  they  live  in  the  present  and  take  no  thought 
for  the  future — not  even  for  to-morrow  morning.  Accord- 
ingly, I  had  to  spend  a  few  more  rupees  at  Kilwa,  in  order  to 
quiet  these  fellows,  the  edge  of  whose  insatiable  appetite 
had  not  been  blunted  by  sea-sickness.  Kilwa — called  Kilwa 
Kivinje,  to  distinguish  it  from  Kilwa  Kisiwani,  the  old  Portu- 
guese settlement  further  south, — has  sad  memories  for  us,  con- 
nected with  the  Arab  rising  of  1888,  when  two  employees  of  the 
German  East  African  Company  met  with  a  tragic  death 
through  the  failure  of  our  fleet  to  interfere.  The  officers  in 
command  have  been  severely  blamed  for  this  ;  but  to-day, 
after  examining  for  myself  the  topography  of  the  place,  I  find 
that  the  whole  deplorable  business  becomes  perfectly  intelli- 
gible. The  shallowness  of  the  water  off  shore  is  such  that 
European  steamers  have  to  anchor  a  long  way  out,  and  the 
signals  of  distress  shown  by  the  two  unfortunate  men  could 
not  have  been  seen. 

Under  normal  circumstances  three  days  is  a  pretty  liberal 
allowance  for  the  run  from  Dar  es  Salam  to  Lindi  by  the  Rufiji  ; 
but  we  did  not  accomplish  it  in  the  time.  South  of  Kilwa  we 
lost  the  shelter  afforded  us  for  the  last  two  days  by  the  island 
of  Mafia  and  the  countless  little  coral  reefs  and  islets,  and 
consequently  felt  the  full  force  of  the  south  wind.  Being  now 
the  only  passenger,  I  had  plenty  of  room,  but  was  if  possible 
more  wretched  than  before,  as  the  supply  of  oranges — the  only 
thing  I  felt  the  slightest  inclination  to  eat — was  exhausted. 


24 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Soon  after  midday  the  captain  and  mate  began  to  study  the 
chart  with  anxious  looks. 

"  When  shall  we  get  to  Lindi  ?  "  I  asked  wearily,  from  the 
depths  of  my  long  chair. 

An  evasive  answer.  The  afternoon  wore  on,  and  the  view 
to  starboard  :  a  white,  curling  line  of  breakers,  backed  by 
the  wall  of  mangroves  with  their  peculiar  green,  still  remained 
the  same.  The  captain  and  mate  were  still  bending  over  their 
chart  when  the  sun  was  nearing  the  horizon. 


LINDI  ROADSTEAD 


"  Is  that  headland  Cape  Banura  ?  "  I  asked,  thinking  that 
we  were  on  the  point  of  entering  Lindi  Bay,  which  once  seen 
can  never  be  mistaken. 

Another  evasive  answer  made  it  quite  clear  to  me  that  our 
two  navigators  could  not  be  very  familiar  with  this  part  of  the 
coast.  In  fact  the  captain  was  quite  a  new-comer,  and  the  mate 
was  acting  temporarily  in  the  place  of  a  man  on  leave.  As  the  sun 
was  now  fast  setting,  we  ran  into  the  first  convenient  inlet,  passed 
a  quiet  night  there,  and  did  the  last  three  or  four  hours  to  Lindi 
on  the  fourth  day,  without  further  incident.  Our  harbour  of 
refuge  was  Mchinga  Bay,  which  was  unknown  to  the  two  seamen 
and  to  me — though  not,  as  afterwards  appeared,  to  the  two 
engineers.  Unluckily  it  happened — as  it  always  does  when  our 
countrymen  are  cooped  up  together  in  a  small  space  for  any 
length  of  time — that  there  was  an  implacable  feud  between  the 
after-deck  and  the  engine-room,  and  the  latter  had  not 
thought  fit  to  enlighten  the  former  as  to  the  ship's  position. 


LINDI 


25 


There  is  something  solemn  and  awe-inspiring  about  the 
entrance  to  Lindi  Bay.  As  the  vessel  rounds  Cape  Banura, 
a  mighty  basin,  perhaps  nine  miles  by  three,  spreads  itself 
out  before  us.  The  green  hills  surrounding  it  are  not  high, 
but  yet  by  no  means  insignificant,  and  they  fall  away  in  steep 
declivities  to  the  sea,  especially  on  the  south  side.  The 
Rufiji  looks  a  black  speck  on  this  glittering  silvery  expanse. 
The  little  town  of  Lindi  lies  picturesquely  enough  among 
groves  of  coco-palms  and  Casuarina,  on  a  tongue  of  land 
formed  by  the  shore  at  the  back  of  the  rectangular  bay  and  the 
left  bank  of  a  seemingly  vast  river,  which  we  can  see  pene- 
trating into  the  country  behind  Lindi.  The  geographer  knows, 
however,  that  this  mighty  channel — from  800  to  1,200  yards 
broad — represents  the  estuary  of  the  tiny  Lukuledi,  which  at 
the  present  day  could  not  possibly  fill  such  a  bed.  What  we 
look  upon  as  its  mouth  is  really  the  whole  valley  of  a  much 
older  Lukuledi,  now  sunk  beneath  the  level  of  the  Indian 
Ocean.  All  our  harbours  on  this  coast  have  originated  in  the 
same  way  : — Dar  es  Salam,  Kilwa  Kisiwani,  Lindi  and  Mikin- 
dani  are  all  flooded  river- valleys.  Africa  with  its  unwieldy 
mass  looks  dull  enough,  I  admit,  on  the  map ;  but  examined  at 
close  quarters  the  continent  is  interesting  in  all  its  parts,  as  we 
find  even  before  we  have  landed  on  its  shores. 


ARAB  DHOW.      DRAWN  BY  STAMBURI,  A  SOLDIER  BELONGING 
TO   THE  AWEMBA  TRIBE 


CHAIN-GANG.      DRAWN   BY  SALIM   MATOLA,    A  MNYASA 


CHAPTER  III 

APPRENTICESHIP 

LiNDi,  July  9,  1906. 

Africa  is  the  land  of  patience.  All  my  predecessors  had  ample 
opportunity  for  acquiring  and  exercising  that  virtue,  and  it 
seems  that  I  am  not  to  be  spared  the  necessary  trials.  After 
being  nearly  three  weeks  inactive  at  Dar  es  Salam,  to  be 
detained  for  about  the  same  period  in  another  coast  town  is 
rather  too  much,  especially  when  the  time  for  the  whole 
journey  is  so  limited,  and  the  best  part  of  the  year — the 
beginning  of  the  dry  season — is  passing  all  too  quickly. 

At  Dar  es  Salam  the  paucity  of  steamer  communication 
furnished  the  reason  for  delay,  while  here  at  Lindi  it  is  the 
absence  of  the  District  Commissioner  and  the  consequent  lack 
of  available  police.  The  authorities  will  not  hear  of  my  starting 
without  an  armed  escort,  but  soldiers  are  only  to  be  had  when 
Mr.  Ewerbeck  returns,  so  that  I  am  compelled,  whether  I  like 
it  or  not,,  to  await  his  arrival.  Not  that  I  have  found  the 
waiting  wearisome,  either  here  or  at  Dar  es  Salam.  The  latter 
place,  with  its  varied  population  and  numerous  European 
residents,  would  be  novel  and  striking  enough  to  attract  the 
mere  tourist,  while,  for  my  own  part,  I  had  an  additional 
interest  in  the  preparation  for  my  future  work.  This  con- 
sisted in  seeing  as  much  of  the  natives  as  time  permitted. 
Many  a  morning  and  afternoon  have  I  spent  in  their  huts 
or  yards,  and  succeeded  in  securing  some  good  phono- 
graphic records  of  the  songs  sung  at  ngoma  dances, 
besides  numerous  solos  and  melodies  played  by  members  of 

26 


AN  EXECUTION 


27 


various  tribes  on  their  national  instruments.  On  one  occasion, 
indeed,  the  officials  very  kindly  got  up  a  dance  expressly  for 
my  convenience.  Unfortunately  all  the  cinematograph  nega- 
tives I  took  on  that  occasion  were  either  blurred  by  shaking 
or  over-exposed,  so  that  we  had  to  be  content  with  some 
tolerable  photographs  of  the  peculiar  dances,  and  the  excellent 
phonographic  records  of  the  songs.  Of  the  dances  and  their 
accompaniments  I  shall  have  more  to  say  later. 


women's  dance  at  dar  es  salam 


My  stay  at  Lindi  has  passed  off  less  peacefully  and  agreeably 
than  I  had  hoped.  A  day  or  two  after  landing  here,  I  had  to 
witness  the  execution  of  a  rebel.  Such  a  function  can  never 
be  a  pleasure  to  the  chief  performer,  however  callous  ;  but  if, 
after  the  reading  of  the  long  sentence  in  German  and  then  in 
Swahili,  the  proceedings  are  lengthened  by  such  bungling  in 
the  arrangements  as  was  here  the  case,  it  can  be  nothing  less 
than  torture  even  to  the  most  apathetic  black.  It  is  true  that, 
as  a  precautionary  measure,  a  second  rope  had  been  attached 
to  the  strong  horizontal  branch  of  the  great  tree  which  serves 
as  a  gallows  at  Lindi  ;  but  when  the  condemned  man  had 
reached  the  platform  it  appeared  that  neither  of  the  two  was 
long  enough  to  reach  his  neck.  The  stoical  calm  with  which  the 
poor  wretch  awaited  the  dragging  up  of  a  ladder  and  the 


28 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


lengthening  of  one  of  the  ropes  was  extremely  significant  as 
an  illustration  of  native  character,  and  the  slight  value  these 
people  set  on  their  own  lives. 

Lindi  forms  a  contrast  to  many  other  Coast  towns,  in  that  its 
interior  keeps  the  promise  of  the  first  view  from  outside.  It 
is  true  that  the  long  winding  street  in  which  the  Indians  have 
their  shops  is  just  as  ugly — though  not  without  picturesque 
touches  here  and  there — as  the  corresponding  quarters  in 
Mombasa,  Tanga  and  Dar  es  Salam  ;  but  in  the  other  parts  of 
the  stragghng  little  town,  the  native  huts  are  all  embowered 
in  the  freshest  of  green.  Two  elements  predominate  in  the 
life  of  the  streets — the  askari  and  the  chain-gang — both  being 
closely  connected  with  the  rising  which  is  just  over.  The 
greater  part  of  Company  No.  3  of  the  Field  Force  is,  it  is 
true,  just  now  stationed  at  strategic  points  in  the  interior 
— at  Luagala  on  the  Makonde  Plateau,  and  at  Ruangwa, 
the  former  seat  of  Sultan  Seliman  Mamba,  far  back  in  the 
Wamwera  country.  In  spite  of  this,  however,  there  is  enough 
khaki  left  to  keep  up  the  numbers  of  the  garrison.  This  colour 
is  most  conspicuous  in  the  streets  in  connection  with  the 
numerous  chain-gangs,  each  guarded  by  a  soldier  in  front 
and  another  in  the  rear,  which  are  to  be  met  with  everywhere 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  old  police  Boma  and  the  new 
barracks  of  the  Field  Force.  I  realize  now  what  nonsense 
has  been  talked  in  the  Reichstag  about  the  barbarity  of  this 
method  of  punishment,  and  how  superficial  was  the  knowledge 
of  the  negro's  psychology  and  his  sense  of  justice  shown  by  the 
majority  of  the  speakers.  Though  competent  writers — men 
who,  through  a  long  residence  in  the  country,  have  become 
thoroughly  familiar  with  the  people  and  their  character — have 
again  aiid  again  pointed  out  that  mere  imprisonment  is  no 
punishment  for  the  black,  but  rather  a  direct  recognition  of 
the  importance  of  his  offence,  their  words  have  fallen  on  deaf 
ears.  We  Germans  cannot  get  away  from  our  stereotyped 
conceptions,  and  persist  in  meting  out  the  same  treatment  to 
races  so  different  in  character  and  habit  as  black  and  white. 
Of  course  I  do  not  mean  to  imply  that  a  man  can  under  any 
circumstances  be  comfortable  when  chained  to  a  dozen  fellow- 
sufferers  (even  though  the  chain,  running  through  a  large  ring 
on  one  side  of  the  neck,  allows  each  one  a  certain  freedom  of 


A  REBEL  LEADER 


29 


movement),  if  only  on  account  of  the  difficulties  involved  in 
the  satisfaction  of  natural  necessities.  But  then  people  are 
not  sent  to  the  chain-gang  in  order  to  be  comfortable. 

However,  men  guilty  of  particularly  heinous  crimes  and 
those  of  prominent  social  position  enjoy  the  distinction  of 
solitary  confinement.  In  the  conversation  of  the  few  Europeans 
just  now  resident  at  Lindi,  the  name  of  Seliman  Mamba  is  of 
frequent  occurrence.  This  man  w^as  the  leader  of  the  rising 
in  the  coast  region,  but  was  ultimately  captured,  and  is  now 

awaiting  in  the  Lindi  hospital  the 
execution  of  the  sentence  recently 
pronounced  on  him.    As  he  has  a 
WKr  number  of  human  lives,  including 

^  ^  those  of  several  Europeans  on  his 

conscience,  he  no  doubt  deserves 
his  fate.  As  a  historical  personage 
who  will  probably  long  survive  in 
the  annals  of  our  Colony,  I  con- 
sidered Seliman  Mamba  worthy  of 
having  his  features  handed  down 
to  posterity,  and  therefore  photo- 
graphed him  one  day  in  the  hospital 
compound.  The  man  was  obviously 
ill,  and  could  only  carry  his  heavy 
chain  with  the  greatest  difficulty. 
His  execution,  when  it  takes  place, 
as  it  shortly  must,  will  be  a  release 
in  every  sense  of  the  word. 

By  far  more  agreeable  than  these 
"  echoes  of  rebelhon  "  are  the  results 
of  my  scientific  inquiries  among 
my  own  men  and  the  Swahilis. 
My  Wanyamwezi  seem  quite 
unable  to  endure  inaction,  and 
ever  since  our  second  day  at 
Lindi,  they  have  been  besieging 
me  from  early  morning  till  late 
at  night  with  mute  or  even 
vocal  entreaties  to  give  them 
something  to  do.    This  request 


SELIMAN  MAMBA 


30 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


I  granted  with  the  greatest  pleasure, — I  made  them 
draw  to  their  heart's  content,  and  allowed  them  to  sing 
into  the  phonograph  as  often  as  opportunity  offered. 
I  have  already  discovered  one  satisfactory  result  from 
our  adventurous  and — in  one  sense  calamitous — voyage 
in  the  Rufiji.  My  men  have  wrought  their  sufferings,  and 
their  consequent  treatment  at  the  hands  of  the  crew  into  a 
song  which  they  now  delight  in  singing  with  much  energy  and 
a  really  pleasing  delivery.    Here  it  is  : — 


Air  A. 


Tu.  ku  .    ke .  yu  .  la 


wa.  tu.ku  .  ti  .  a    na  nan 

.   ga          u .  lu J 

i.tt.  uw.one  1 

ta   .  i 

iva  .V 

va. ,       ta  .  bu       ya  -  fu  . 

ma  kwe.li     ya  -  ku-wu-la.ga  yu    .    ku.fu.lu  mun  .  gu    su.  mi  .   rai   yu  wa  .  ki.ba.lu. 


The  general  drift  of  it  is  something  like  the  following  : — 
"  We  w^ere  on  board  day  and  night,  till  the  day  dawned, 
and  then  cast  anchor.  The  Baharia  (sailors)  on  board 
said,  '  You  Washenzi  (pagans,  bush  people)  from  the 
interior,  you  will  vomit  yourselves  to  death.'  But  we 
came  safe  to  Lindi  after  all,  and  said  (to  the  sailors)  : 
'  You  mocked  at  God  (by  saying  that  we  should  die),  but 
we  came  safe  to  land.'  " 

This  love  of  singing  is  characteristic  of  the  Wanyamwezi. 
In  the  course  of  my  enforced  detention  here,  I  have  taken 
many  a  photographic  stroll,  in  which  my  men  are  always  eager 
to  acconipany  me.  On  these  occasions  I  have  to  divide  the 
small  amount  of  apparatus  necessary  to  be  taken  wath  me 
among  as  many  of  them  as  possible,  so  that  everyone  may 
have  something  to  carry.  It  is  never  very  long  before  Pesa 
mbili  the  Mnyampara  or  caravan  headman,  lifts  up  his  voice — 
a  very  good  one  too— whereupon  the  chorus  promptly  falls  in 
in  excellent  time.  I  may  here  give  a  specimen  of  these  little 
marching  songs  : — 

1  This  song  is  a  mixture  of  Xyamwezi,  Swahili  and  corrupt  Arabic  ; 
the  last  three  words  being  intended  for  Bismillalii  yu  (  =  he  is)  akbar. 


AN  EXPRESSIVE  SYLLABLE 


31 


Kabowe  kabowe  ku  meso  ;    Namuki  kabowe  ku  meso.  (^) 
Wambunga  kabowe  ku  meso  ;    Namuki  kabowe  ku  meso. 
Ki  !    kabowe  ku  meso  ;    Wamwera  kabowe  ku  meso. 
Ki  !    kabowe  ku  meso  ;   Wakumbwa  kabowe  ku  meso. 

(1)  We  shoot  with  our  eyes — we  shoot  the  Namuki  with  our  e^^es. 
The  Wambunga,  we  shoot  them  with  our  eyes — the  Namuki,  we 

shoot  them  with  our  eyes  ; 
Bang  !   we  shoot  with  our  eyes — the  W^amwera,  we  shoot  them 

with  our  eyes  ; 

Bang  !  we  shoot  with  our  eyes — the  Wakumbwa — we  shoot  them 
with  our  eyes. 

To  judge  by  the  words  of  this  song,  the  Wanyamwezi  must 
be  exceedingly  loyal  to  the  German  Government,  for  they 
march  against  all  the  rebelhous  southern  tribes  in  turn  and 
annihilate  them.  The  Namuki  are  identical  with  the  Majimaji, 
the  insurgents  of  1905-6.  The  time  is  a  frantic  recitative  which 
makes  a  reproduction  in  our  notation  impossible.  The 
exclamation  "  "  conveys,  according  to  the  unanimous 
testimony  of  Pesa  mbili  and  the  most  intelligent  among  his 
friends,  the  expression  of  the  force  with  which  the  Rugaruga 
(the  auxiliaries)  smash  the  skulls  of  the  wounded  enemy,  even 
though  it  should  have  to  be  done  with  a  stamp  of  the  heel. 
At  every  repetition  of  the  ki  the  singers  stamp  on  the  ground 
so  that  it  quivers — so  completely  can  these  peaceable  North- 
erners throw  themselves  into  all  the  horrors  of  the  late  rising  ; 
one  can  almost  hear  the  skulls  crash  at  every  ki.  This  song  of 
defiance  is  certainly  not  an  original  composition  of  my  people's, 
but  has  been  borrowed  by  them  from  some  of  their  tribesmen 
who  served  in  the  last  campaign  as  Rugaruga  and  are  now 
lounging  about  Lindi  out  of  work.  I  have  been  obliged  to 
engage  some  of  these  men  as  carriers  for  the  march  to  Masasi  ; 
they  are  in  their  whole  behaviour  much  more  decided  and 
defiant  than  my  gentle  grown-up  children  from  Dar  es  Salam, 
so  that  I  shall  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  them  when  my  destination 
is  reached.    I  think  the  above  song  must  belong  to  them. 

Now  that  I  am  on  the  subject  I  will  reproduce  a  march  of  the 
Sudanese  soldiers  which  in  its  meaning  closely  resembles  the 
one  just  given.  This  was  sung  into  the  phonograph  for  me  by 
Sol  (Sergeant-Major)  Achmed  Bar  Shemba  and  a  couple  of 
divisions  from  the  third  company  of  the  Field  Force  by  order 
of  that  excellent  African  veteran,  Captain  Seyfried.  The  little 
non-com.  stood  like  a  bronze  statue  in  front  of  the  machine, 


32 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


and  the  gaunt  brown  warriors  from  Darfur  and  Kordofan  closed 
up  behind  him,  as  if  they  had  been  on  the  drill-ground,  in  two 
ranks,  each  man  accurately  behind  the  one  in  front.  We  had 
no  little  trouble  in  making  them  take  up  the  wedge  formation 
necessary  to  produce  the  desired  effect.  The  song  runs 
thus  : — 


Solo.   (Air  A) 


Chorus  (Air  a) 


daim  o  daim  al  .  lah  al .  la.  ho  daim  al 
Solo.  (A) 


lah     daim    o  daim  al  .  lah  al.la.  ho  daim  al  .  lah 
Chorus 


daim  o  daim  al  .  lah  al.  la.  ho  daim  al 
Solo.  (B) 


lah     daim    o  daim  al .  lah  al.la.  hudaimal  .  lah 
Choru  i 


daim  o  daim  al  .  lah  al .  la.  ho  daim  al 
Solo.  (A) 


lah 


daim    o  daim  al  .  lah  al.  la .  hodaim  al  .  lah 


Chori 


daim  o  daim  al  .  lah  al.  la.  ho  daim  al 
Solo.  (B') 


lah     daim    o  daim  al  .  lah  al.la.  hodaimal  .  lah 
Chorus 


Jum.be  sa.nep:3  al .  lah  al.  la  .  ho  daim  al 
Solo.  (B  ) 


lah 


daim    o  daira  al  .  lah  al.la.  hodaimal  .  lah 


Chorus 


Jum.be  8a.nepi3  al  .  lah  ..1.1a  .  ho  daim  al 
Solo.  (BO 


daim    o  daim  al  .  lah  al.la.  hodaimal  .  lah 


Chorus 


Jum.be  sa.r.s  pis  al .  lah  al .  la  .  ho  daim  al 
Solo.  (A) 


daim    o  daim  al .  lah  al.la.  hodaimal  .  lah 


Chorus 


daim  o  daim  al  .  lah  al.la.  ho  daim 
Solo.  (B) 


lah     daim    o  daim  al  .  lah  al.la.  hodaimal  -  lah 
Chorus 


im  o  daim  al  .  lah  al .  la .  ho  daim  al 
Solo.  (B") 


daira    o  daim  al  .  lah  al.la.  hodaimal .  lah 


Chorus 


JumJbe  sajiepisal.  lah  al.la.  hodaim  al 
Solo.  (B') 


daim    o  daim  al  .  lah  al.la.  hodaimal.  lah 


Chorus 


Jum.be  sa.nepisal-  lah  al.la.  ho  daim  al  .  lah 


daim    o  daim  al  .  lah  al.  la.  hodaimal .  lah 


34 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


The  singers,  who  are  principally  Nubians,  state  that  this 
song  is  in  their  mother  tongue,  the  Darfur  dialect.  I  have 
not  yet  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  literal  translation.  The 
general  meaning  of  the  words,  which  are  sung  with  enviable 
lung-power  and  indefatigable  energy,  is  somewhat  as  follows  : 

"  We  are  always  strong.  The  Jumbe  (headman)  has  been 
hanged  by  the  command  of  Allah.  Hongo  (one  of  the  insurgent 
leaders)  has  been  hanged  by  the  command  of  Allah." 

Thus  much  as  to  the  results  of  my  musical  inquiries  so  far 
as  they  concern  the  foreign  elements  (foreign,  that  is  to  say, 
here  at  Lindi)  of  the  Wanyamwezi  and  Nubians.  I  have 
obtained  some  records  of  ngoma  songs  from  Yaos  and  other 
members  of  inland  tribes,  but  I  cannot  tell  for  the  present 
whether  they  are  a  success,  as  I  find  to  my  consternation  that 
my  cylinders  are  softening  under  the  influence  of  the  damp 
heat,  so  that  I  can  take  records,  but  cannot  risk  reproducing 
them  for  fear  of  endangering  the  whole  surface.  A  cheerful 
prospect  for  the  future  ! 

Very  interesting  from  a  psychological  point  of  view  is  the 
behaviour  of  the  natives  in  presence  of  my  various  apparatus. 
The  camera  is,  at  any  rate  on  the  coast,  no  longer  a  novelty, 
so  that  its  use  presents  comparatively  few  difliculties,  and  the 
natives  are  not  particularly  surprised  at  the  results  of  the 
process.  The  only  drawback  is  that  the  women — as  we  found 
even  at  Dar  es  Salam — usually  escape  being  photographed  by 
running  away  as  fast  as  their  legs  will  carry  them.  The 
cinematograph  is  a  thing  utterly  outside  their  comprehension. 
It  is  an  enchini,  a  machine,  like  any  other  which  the  mzungu, 
the  white  man,  has  brought  into  the  country — and  when  the 
said  white  turns  a  handle  on  the  little  black  box,  counting  at 
the  same  time,  in  a  monotonous  rhythm,  "  Twenty-one, 
twenty-two,  twenty-one,  twenty-two,"  the  native  may  be 
pleasantly  reminded  of  the  droning  measures  which  he  is 
accustomed  to  chant  at  his  work  ;  but  what  is  to  be  the  result 
of  the  whole  process  he  neither  knows  nor  cares. 

The  phonograph,  on  the  contrary,  is  an  enchini  after  the 
very  heart,  not  only  of  the  black  man,  but  even  of  the  black 
woman.  If  I  should  live  to  the  age  of  Methuselah  the  scene 
in  Mr.  Devers's  compound  at  Dar  es  Salam  will  always  remain 
one  of  the  most  delightful  recollections  connected  with  my  stay 


THE  PHONOGRAPH 


35 


in  Africa.  After  spending  some  time  in  the  native  quarter, 
watching  the  dances  of  various  tribes — here  a  Manyema  ngoma, 
there  one  of  the  Wazaramo,  or  yonder  again  that  of  some 
coast  people's  club,  and  observing  the  costumes  of  the  per- 
formers, sometimes  hideous  but  always  picturesque,  I  returned 


GIRLS  FROM  LINDI 


to  my  own  quarters,  at  the  head  of  a  procession  numbering 
some  hundreds  of  the  dancers,  male  and  female,  in  order 
to  take  down  the  audible  part  of  the  proceedings.  Everything 
had  gone  off  in  the  most  satisfactory  way  ;  but  every  time  I 
changed  the  diaphragms,  took  out  the  recorder  and  put  in  the 
reproducer,  when  the  full-voiced  melody  poured  forth  from  the 
mysterious  funnel  in  exactly  the  same  time  and  with  the  precise 
timbre  which  had  been  sung  into  it — what  measureless  and  at 
the  same  time  joyful  astonishment  was  painted  on  the  brown 
faces,  all  moist  and  shining  with  their  exertions  in  singing  and 


36 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


dancing  !  Whenever  this  happened,  all  the  more  unsophisti- 
cated souls  joined  in  the  chorus,  to  be  speedily  enlightened  by 
the  derisive  laughter  of  the  more  "  educated  "  element. 

But  the  most  delightful  instance  of  naivete  came  at  the  close 
of  the  proceedings,  after  I  had  used  up  my  small  stock  of 
Swahili  idioms  in  expressing  my  pleasure  at  a  successful  after- 
noon. Two  women,  who  had  previously  attracted  my  notice 
by  their  tremendous  vocal  power,  as  well  as  by  the  elegance 
of  their  attire,  came  forward  again  ;  and,  as  the  crowd  fell  back, 
leaving  a  clear  space  in  front  of  the  phonograph,  first  one  and 
then  the  other  approached  the  apparatus,  dropped  a  curtsy 
in  the  finest  Court  style,  and  waving  her  hand  towards  the 
mouthpiece  said,  "  Kwa  heri,  sauti  yangu  !  " — "  Good-bye,  my 
voice  !  "  This  incident  illustrates  the  way  in  which  the  native 
mind  cannot  get  away  from  what  is  most  immediately  obvious 
to  the  senses.  In  the  very  act  of  uttering  their  farewell,  these 
two  women  could  hear  for  themselves  that  they  had  not  lost 
their  voices  in  the  least,  and  yet  because  they  had  a  moment 
ago,  heard  them  distinctly  coming  out  of  the  phonograph,  they 
regarded  themselves  as  deprived  of  them  from  that  instant, 
and  solemnly  took  leave  of  them. 

As  to  my  inquiries  into  the  artistic  aptitudes  of  the  natives, 
I  prefer  to  give  the  results  in  a  connected  form  later 
on,  when  I  shall  have  brought  together  a  larger  amount  of 
material  on  which  to  form  a  judgment.  So  much,  however, 
I  can  say  even  now  :  c^est  le  premier  pas  qui  coiUe  is  true, 
not  only  for  the  executant  artist  but  also  for  the  investigator. 
At  Dar  es  Salam,  the  matter  was  simpler.  My  "  boy " 
Kibwana  (literally,  "  the  Little  Master "),  a  youth  of  the 
Wazegeju  tribe  from  Pangani,  though,  like  Omari  the  cook  (a 
Bondei  from  the  north  of  the  colony),  he  had  never  had  a 
pencil  or  a  piece  of  paper  in  his  hand  before,  had  been  too  long 
in  the  service  of  Europeans  to  venture  any  objections  when 
desired  to  draw  something  for  me — say  the  palm  in  front  of 
my  window,  or  my  piece  of  India-rubber.  He  set  to  work, 
and  cheerfully  drew  away,  with  no  anxieties  as  to  the  artistic 
value  to  be  expected  from  the  result. 

In  the  case  of  my  Wanyamwezi,  with  whom  I  have  made 
a  beginning  here,  in  order  to  give  them  something  to  do,  a 
mere  order  is  of  little  use.    If  I  put  a  sketch-book  and  pencil 


NATIVE  ARTISTS 


37 


into  the  hands  of  one  of  my  followers  with  the  invitation  to 
draw  something,  the  inevitable  answer  is  a  perplexed  smile 
and  an  embarrassed  "  Sijui,  bwani,'" — I  don't  know  how,  sir." 
Then  one  has  to  treat  the  man  according  to  his  individuality — 
with  an  energetic  order,  or  a  gentle  request  ;  but  in  every 
case  I  found  that  the  best  plan  was  to  approach  him  on 
the  side  of  his  ambition.  "  Why,  you're  a  clever  fellow,  you 
know — a  mwenyi  akili — just  look  at  your  friend  Juma  over 
there — he  is  not  nearly  as  clever  as  you — and  yet,  see  how  he 
can  draw  !  Just  sit  down  here  and  begin  drawing  Juma 
himself  !  "  This  subtle  flattery  proved  irresistible  to  all  but 
a  few,  who,  despite  everything  I  could  say  by  way  of  encourage- 
ment, stuck  to  it  that  they  could  not  do  what  was  wanted. 
The  rest  are  like  the  lion  who  has  once  tasted  blood  :  they  are 
insatiable,  and  if  I  had  brought  two  dozen  sketch-books  with 
me,  they  would  all  be  continuously  in  use.  I  found  that, 
instead  of  leaving  the  beginner  to  choose  his  own  subject,  it  was 
a  better  plan  (as  it  is  also  educationally  a  sounder  one)  to 
suggest  in  the  first  instance  something  quite  famihar — a 
Nyamwezi  hut,  a  fowl,  a  snake,  or  the  like.  Then  one  finds 
that  they  set  to  work  with  some  confidence  in  themselves,  and 
that  they  are  inordinately  proud  of  their  masterpieces,  if  their 
mzungu  gives  them  the  smallest  word  of  praise.  It  is  obvious 
that  I  should  never  dream  of  finding  fault — my  object  being, 
not  criticism  with  a  view  to  improvement,  but  merely  the  study 
of  the  racial  aptitudes  and  the  psychological  processes  involved 
in  artistic  production. 

My  way  of  getting  at  the  latter  is  to  stipulate  that  each  of 
my  draughtsmen,  as  soon  as  he  feels  that  his  degree  of  profi- 
ciency entitles  him  to  a  reward,  is  to  show  me  his  work.  Then 
comes  a  shauri^  usually  of  long  duration,  but  extremely 
amusing  for  both  parties.  "  What  is  this  ?  "  I  ask,  pointing 
with  my  pencil  to  what  looks  a  perplexing  complication  of  lines. 
"  Mamha — a  crocodile,"  comes  the  answer,  either  with  a  slight 
undertone  of  indignant  astonishment  at  the  European  who 
does  not  even  know  a  crocodile  when  he  sees  it,  or  somewhat 
dejectedly  on  finding  the  work  to  be  so  unsuccessful  that 

^  "  Discussion  " — but  it  is  an  elastic  term,  corresponding  in  most 
if  not  all,  of  its  many  meanings  to  the  Chinyanja  mlandu,  the  Zulu 
indaba  and  the  "  palaver  "  of  the  West  Coast.-^TR.] 


38 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


even  the  omniscient  mzungii  cannot  tell  what  it  is  meant 
for.  "  Oh  !  a  crocodile — very  good  !  "  I  reply,  and  write  the 
word  beside  the  drawing.  "  Yes,"  the  artist  never  fails  to 
add,  "  but  it  is  a  mamha  of  Unyamwezi,"  or  "  of  Usagara,"  or 
"  in  the  Ngerengere,"  as  the  case  may  be.  One  is  brought  up 
short  by  this  information,  and  asks,  "  Why  ?  How  so  ?  "  and 
then  comes  a  long  story  in  explanation.  This  is  a  crocodile  which 
the  artist  and  his  friends  (here  follow  their  names  in  full),  saw 


RUINED  TOWER,   LINDI    (BUILT  BY  THE  PORTUGUESE) 


on  the  march  from  Tabora  to  the  coast  with  such  and  such  a 
European,  and  which  came  very  near  being  the  death  of  him 
at  the  crossing  of  such  and  such  a  swamp,  or  of  the  Ngerengere 
river.  When  writing  down  the  first  few  of  these  commentaries, 
I  did  not  pay  any  special  attention  to  the  fact  of  their  always 
being  connected  with  a  particular  incident  ;  but  now,  after 
having  acquired  a  large  collection  of  drawings  representing  either 
single  objects  (animals,  plants,  implements,  etc.),  or  scenes 
from  native  life,  it  has  become  clear  to  me  that  the  African  is 
incapable  of  drawing  any  object  in  the  abstract,  so  to  speak, 
and  apart  from  its  natural  surroundings— or  indeed  from  some 
particular  surroundings  in  which  he  has  met  with  it  on  some 
particular  occasion.  If  he  is  told  to  draw  a  Mnyamwezi  woman 
he  draws  his  own  wife,  or  at  any  rate  some  relative  or  personal 
acquaintance,  and  if  he  is  to  draw  a  hut,  he  proceeds  in  exactly 
the  same  way,  and  depicts  his  own  or  his  neighbour's.  Just 
so  with  the  genre  pictures,  which  are  not  such  in  our  sense 


THE  DYNAMOMETER 


39 


of  the  word,  but  might  ahnost  be  termed  a  species  of  historical 
painting.  I  have  already  a  whole  series  of  sketches  representing 
a  lion  springing  on  a  cow,  or  a  hysena  attacking  a  man,  or  some 
similar  scene  from  the  life-struggle  of  the  higher  organisms, 
and  the  explanation  is  always  something  like  this  : — "  This  is 
a  lion,  and  this  is  a  cow,  but  the  cow  belonged  to  my  uncle  and 
the  lion  carried  it  off  about  four  years  ago.  And  this  is  a  hyaena, 
and  this  man  is  my  friend — say,  Kasona — who  was  taken  ill 
on  the  march  from  Tabora  to  Mwanza  and  had  to  stay  behind, 
and  the  hyaena  came  and  was  going  to  bite  him,  but  we  drove 
it  away  and  saved  Kasona." 

These  are  only  one  or  two  specimens  of  my  methods  and 
results.  I  am  convinced  that  I  am  on  the  right  tack,  though 
no  doubt  I  shall  make  many  mistakes  and  need  much 
additional  experience. 

My  dynamometer,  which  did  such  excellent  service  on  board 
the  Red  Sea  steamer  in  promoting  friendly  international 
relations,  has  not  lost  its  virtue  here.  When  I  am  at  the  end 
of  my  resources  for  amusing  my  men  and  the  friends  whom 
they  have  gathered  round  them  since  our  arrival  in  Lindi,  I  put 
the  steel  oval  into  the  hand  of  honest  Pesa  mbili,  who,  of 
course,  must  have  the  precedence  in  everything.  He  presses  it, 
and  then,  with  the  whole  troop  of  his  black  friends  crowding 
round,  gazes  with  the  greatest  excitement  at  the  dial,  as  if  he 
could  read  the  mysterious  signs  engraved  on  the  brass  arc. 
When  I  have  glanced  at  the  scale  and  announced  the  result — 
of  course  the  numbers  only,  as  the  kilogrammes  would  merely 
serve  to  perplex  them — it  is  received  with  a  certain  quite 
comprehensible  feeling  of  doubt  ;  they  do  not  yet  know  if  the 
number  means  much  or  little,  having  no  standard  of  com- 
parison. The  second  man  begins  to  excite  interest  ;  if,  instead 
of  his  predecessor's  35  kilogrammes,  he  can  only  reach  30,  he 
is  greeted  by  mildly  derisive  laughter,  but  if  he  excels  his  rival, 
he  is  a  mwenyi  nguvu — a  strong  man,  worthy  of  the  tribute  of 
admiration  which  he  receives  with  smiling  dignity. 

So  each  man  takes  his  turn,  and  they  will  go  on  for  hours 
without  tiring.  One  thing  only  is  felt  by  the  more  intelhgent 
to  be  wanting — it  interests  them  to  know  which  among  them- 
selves is  the  strongest  or  weakest,  but  in  order  to  get  a  higher 
and  absolute  standard  of  comparison,  they  are  all  eagerness 


40 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


to  know  what  their  lord  and  master  can  do.  Of  course  I  am 
wilhng  to  obhge  them,  at  the  close  of  the  meeting,  and  press 
the  instrument,  first  in  my  right  hand  and  then  in  my  left. 
When  they  hear  the  result  (which,  to  my  great  satisfaction, 
requires  no  cooking),  a  unanimous  A-ah!  hwana  mkuhwa!'' 
bursts  from  the  admiring  circle — literally,  "Ah  !  Great 
master  !  " — but  about  equivalent  to,  "  What  a  giant  you  are 
for  strength  !  " 


In  fact  we  Europeans,  as  far  as  the  spontaneous  putting 
forth  of  strength  goes,  are  as  giants  compared  with  the  African. 
I  made  fairly  careful  records  of  the  figures  for  each  man,  not 
once  only,  but  in  several  successive  trials,  so  that  no  allowance 
need  be  made  for  novelty  or  want  of  practice,  but  how  inferior 
they  are  to  us  !  None  of  them  could  compass  a  greater  pressure 
than  35  kilos  with  the  right  hand  and  26  with  the  left,  with 
the  exception  of  one  man  who  attained  to  something  over  40 
kilos  ;  while  I,  even  here  in  the  damp  heat  of  the  coast  region 
can  still  manage  over  60  with  the  right  and  over  50  with  the 
left.  And  yet  nearly  all  my  men  are  professional  carriers, 
sturdy  fellows  with  tremendous  chest-measurement,  broad 
shoulders  and  splendidly  developed  upper-arm  muscles.  What 
they  lack,  as  has  so  often  been  pointed  out,  is  the  power  of 
concentrating  the  strength  of  the  whole  body  at  a  given 
moment  of  time.  These  very  Wanyamwezi  are  famous  for 
their  almost  incredible  powers  of  endurance. 


UNDER  THE  PALMS 


THE  WHITE  MAN'S  TEMPER 


41 


The  natives  thus,  as  a  whole,  indisputably  present  a  picture 
not  without  attractions  from  a  psychological  point  of  view  ; 
but  in  the  six  weeks  or  so  which  I  have  by  this  time  spent  on  the 
coast,  the  Europeans  have  appeared  to  me  almost  more  interest- 
ing still.  Dar  es  Salam  is  so  large  and  contains  so  many  of  our 
race  that  the  new-comer  does  not  have  the  contrasts  between 
black  and  white  forced  on  his  notice,  while  the  contrasts  to  be 
found  among  the  white  population  are  less  observable  on  the 
wider  field  of  a  large  settlement.  Lindi,  being  very  much 
smaller,  leaves  no  room  for  either  possibility  ;  in  the  narrowness 
of  its  environment  and  the  monotony  of  its  life,  there  is  nothing 
to  modify  the  shock  of  contrasted  and  clashing  individualities, 
and  in  such  a  place  one  sees  with  startling  clearness  the  enor- 
mously powerful  and  rapid  effect  of  residence  in  the  tropics 
on  the  mental  balance  of  a  foreign  race.  It  does  not  belong  to 
my  office  to  point  to  the^ — to  say  the  least  of  it,  curious — 
excrescences  of  our  German  class  and  caste  spirit,  which  here, 
in  a  circle  of  Europeans  numbering  a  dozen  or  less,  brings 
forth  singularly  unpleasant  fruits.  I  need  not  relate  how  the 
military  element,  recently  "  dethroned  "  by  the  establishment 
of  a  civil  administration,  looks  down  with  a  superior  smile 
on  the  officials  of  that  administration,  or  how  the  intrusion 
of  the  personal  element  into  affairs  cuts  off  every  possibility 
of  social  intercourse,  and,  what  is  worse,  of  cordial  co-operation 
in  common  work.  To  the  new-comer,  expressing  his  aston- 
ishment at  such  a  state  of  things,  old  residents  say  (with 
a  coolness  contrasting  strangely  with  their  usual  state  of 
chronic  irritation)  :  "  What  do  you  expect  ? — this  is  not  the 
only  place  where  things  are  so — you  will  find  it  the  same 
everywhere  !  "  So  it  seems  to  be,  if  I  may  judge  by  all  I  have 
heard  during  these  instructive  weeks  ;  but  one  may  hope  that 
this  disagreeable  phenomenon  is  only  one  of  the  many  infantile 
diseases  incidental  to  the  early  stages  in  the  life  of  every 
colony.  One  thing,  however,  which  I  absolutely  fail  to 
understand  is  the  furious  fits  of  rage  to  which  every  white  man 
who  has  lived  long  in  the  country  appears  to  be  subject.  I  am 
doing  my  best  in  the  meantime  to  go  on  my  way  without 
calhng  of  names  or  boxing  of  ears,  but  everyone  is  agreed  in 
assuring  me  that  I  shall  learn  better  in  the  course  of  the 
next  few  months.    I  cannot  judge  for  the  present  whether 


42 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


life  is  really  impossible  wdthout  thrashing  people — but  I 
hope  it  is  not  the  case. 

In  order  not  to  dwell  exclusively  on  the  darker  traits  char- 
acteristic of  Europeans  in  the  tropics,  I  must  mention  the 
admirable  gifts  of  household  management  possessed  by  most 
of  them.  Dar  es  Salam  is  so  far  a  centre  of  civilization  as  to 
possess  bakers,  butchers,  and  shops  of  all  kinds  in  plenty,  yet 
even  there  I  fancy  that  the  office  of  mess  president  is  by  no 
means  a  sinecure.  But  who  shall  describe  how  the  unlucky 
bachelor  in  a  remote  coast  town  has  to  rack  his  brains  in  order 
to  set  before  his  messmates — not  merely  something  new,  but 
anything  at  all  !  Only  experience  can  teach  how  far  in  advance 
one  has  to  provide  for  all  the  thousand-and-one  trifles  which 
are  inseparable  from  our  housekeeping.  The  price  alone  makes 
it  impossible  to  depend  to  any  great  extent  on  tinned  goods, 
and  it  becomes  necessary  to  have  sufficient  stores  on  hand  to 
last  for  days— sometimes  for  weeks  and  months,  and,  in  addition, 
to  concoct  eatable  dishes  out  of  the  wild  herbs  which  the  cook 
and  kitchen-boy  bring  in.  On  the  coast  some  variety  is  secured 
by  the  abundance  of  good  fish  ;  in  the  interior  this  resource 
fails.  And  when  it  happens — as  it  does  just  now — that  even 
the  standard  typical  bird  of  Africa,  the  domestic  fowl,  and  its 
product,  the  egg,  are  not  to  be  had,  then  the  case  is  desperate 
indeed,  and  catering  for  a  large  number  of  people  becomes  a 
serious  problem. 

It  is  remarkable,  however,  how  skilled  even  the  most 
inveterate  bachelors  among  the  German  residents  are  in  solving 
this  problem — not  always  with  elegance,  and  certainly  not 
always  to  the  satisfaction  of  their  critical  predecessors  in  office, 
but  yet  so  as  to  fill  the  novice  at  any  rate  with  astonished 
admiration.  Dr.  Franz  Stuhlmann,  who  accompanied  Emin 
Pasha  on  his  last  disastrous  journey — a  thoroughly  competent 
ethnographer  and  the  guardian  and  cherisher  of  the  African 
plant- world,  so  far  as  it  can  be  adapted  to  the  service  of  man 
— has  long  been  a  celebrity  in  the  culinary  department  through- 
out the  whole  Colony.  Stuhlmann  has  the  reputation  of  being 
able  to  prepare  a  dainty  dish  from  every  weed  that  grows  beside 
the  native  path  ;  he  is  a  walking  encyclopaedia  of  tropical 
cookery.  Others  are  less  proficient  than  this,  but  I  cannot 
yet  get  over  my  astonishment  at  the  way  in  which  Captain 


A  QUESTION  OF  DIET 


43 


Seyfried,  for  instance,  can  produce  something  eatable  out  of 
the  most  elementary  ingredients,  at  his  achievements  in 
salting  and  pickling,  at  the  unimpeachable  jellies  he  contrives 
to  serve  up  even  at  the  present  temperature,  and  at  the  variety 
which  always  characterizes  his  bill  of  fare. 

I  must  here  make  an  end,  once  for  all,  of  one  fallacy  prevalent 
at  home.  "  Why,  you  surely  cannot  eat  anything  in  that 
heat  !  "  is  a  remark  which  never  fails  to  occur  in  any  con- 
versation having  the  tropics  for  its  subject,  but  which  betrays 
a  complete  misconception  of  the  conditions.  In  the  first 
place,  the  heat  is  not  so  unendurable  as  commonly  supposed 
by  us — at  any  rate  during  the  dry  season,  on  the  coast,  where 
a  fresh  sea-breeze  always  blows  by  day.  But,  in  addition  to 
this,  the  waste  of  tissue  goes  on  much  more  rapidly  in  tropical 
than  in  temperate  climates.  Not  even  the  new-comer  is 
surprised  to  see  "  old  Africans  "  consuming  an  extensive 
"  first  breakfast  "  at  a  very  early  hour,  in  which  various 
preparations  of  meat  figure,  though  fruit  is  also  conspicuous. 
At  midday  even  a  minor  official  never  thinks  of  less  than  two 
courses  and  dessert,  and  in  the  evening  after  office  hours,  all 
ranks  and  professions  go  in  for  a  repast  which  at  home  would 
certainly  rank  as  a  public  banquet.  This  seemingly  luxurious 
mode  of  life,  however,  by  no  means  deserves  the  reprehension 
one  may  feel  inchned  to  bestow  on  it.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
physiologically  both  justifiable  and  necessary,  if  the  body  is 
to  offer  .permanent  resistance  to  the  deleterious  influence  of 
the  climate.  The  new-comer  is  not  surprised  by  the  appetite 
of  others  because,  unconsciously,  he  shares  it.  Personally, 
though  I  wield  quite  a  creditable  knife  and  fork  at  home,  my 
performances  out  here  would  make  me  the  terror  of  most 
German  housewives. 

The  only  article  of  diet  I  do  not  get  on  with  is  alcohol.  At 
home  I  can  appreciate  a  glass  of  beer  or  wine,  and  on  board  the 
Prinzregent  we  passengers  levied  a  pretty  heavy  toll  on  the 
supphes  of  "  Miinchener  "  and  "  Pilsener  "  ;  but  since  I  landed 
in  this  country  I  have  taken  no  beer  at  all  and  wine  only  in 
very  small  quantities,  while  I  have  been  quite  unable  to  acquire 
a  taste  for  whisky  and  soda,  the  national  drink  of  all  Germans 
in  East  Africa.  Such  abstinence  is  easily  understood  at  Lindi, 
where  there  is  no  ice  to  be  had  ;  but  even  at  Dar  es  Salam, 


44 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


where  Schultz's  brewery  supplies  the  whole  town  with  ice  every 
day,  I  found  I  had  no  taste  for  alcoholic  beverages.  This  is 
a  great  advantage  as  regards  my  journey  into  the  interior,  as 
I  am  saved  the  inconvenience  of  taking  loads  of  bottles  with  me. 

I  am  glad  to  say  that  my  enforced  detention  on  the  coast 
is  nearing  its  end.  Commissioner  Ewerbeck,  who  returned 
from  the  interior  a  few  days  ago,  is  most  kindly  wilhng  to 
start  again  with  me  to-morrow,  so  as  to  escort  me  with  a 
detachment  of  police  through  the  Wamwera  country — the 
scene  of  the  late  rising — as  far  as  Masasi.  He  has  still  work 
to  do  in  the  Central  Lukuledi  Valley,  for,  though  most  of  the 
insurgent  leaders  have  long  ago  been  captured  and  adorn  the 
streets  of  Lindi  in  the  shape  of  chain-gangs,  the  pursuit  of 
others  is  still  going  on  and  will  yet  cost  many  a  shauri.  From 
Masasi,  Mr.  Ewerbeck  will  have  to  return  immediately  to 
Lindi,  in  time  for  the  formal  reception  of  the  delegates  from 
the  Reichstag,  who  are  to  visit  the  south  of  the  Colony  next 
month,  on  their  much-discussed  tour  through  East  Africa. 

My  first  glimpse  of  the  interior,  by-the-bye,  has  hardly  been 
a  pleasant  one.  In  the  course  of  the  riding-lessons  which 
Captain  Seyfried  has  been  giving  me,  we  one  evening  made 
an  excursion  to  the  Kitulo.  This  is  a  long,  fairly  precipitous 
range  of  heights,  about  570  feet  above  sea-level,  rising 
immediately  behind  Lindi  and  separating  the  narrow  sandy 
plain  on  which  the  town  stands  from  the  back  country.  A  land- 
mark of  our  civilization — a  tower  built  for  the  sake  of  the  view 
— was,  some  years  ago,  erected  on  the  top  of  this  Kitulo. 
When  I  ascended  it  by  the  help  of  a  somewhat  decrepit  ladder, 
the  sun  had  already  set,  and  the  whole  western  landscape — 
precisely  the  part  of  the  Dark  Continent  which  I  wish  to 
penetrate  within  the  next  few  days — lay  extended  before  me 
as  a  dark,  menacing  shadow.  For  one  moment  my  mind  was 
clouded  by  gloomy  forebodings,  but  I  speedily  recalled  my 
old  luck  which  has  never  yet  forsaken  me.  "  Never  mind — 
I'll  get  the  better  of  you  yet  !  "  I  exclaimed,  sotto  voce,  as  I  lit 
a  new  cigar  with  the  utmost  philosophy,  and  mounted  my  mule 
for  the  return  journey. 


THE    LIKWATA    DANCE    BEING    PHOTOGRAPHED    BY    THE  AUTHOR. 
DRAWN   BY  PESA  MBILI,    THE   MNYAMWEZI  HEADMAN 


CHAPTER  IV 

FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  THE  INTERIOR 

Masasi,  July  20,  1906. 

Few  people,  I  fancy,  will  know  where  Masasi  is,  yet  those 
interested  in  the  Colonies  might  well  be  acquainted  with  its 
situation,  for  in  its  own  small  way  it  is  quite  a  civilizing  centre. 
The  English  Mission  ^  has  been  at  work  here  for  nearly  the  third 
of  a  century,  and,  since  the  suppression  of  the  rebellion,  a  native 
corporal  with  a  dozen  black  German  soldiers  has  been  gallantly 
maintaining  his  ground,  in  a  bonia  specially  built  for  the 
purpose,  in  case  of  any  renewed  warlike  impulses  on  the  part 
of  the  interior  tribes. 

I  preferred  to  take  up  my  quarters  with  the  soldiers,  not 
from  any  hostility  to  religion,  but  because  the  two  clergymen 
at  the  mission  station,  about  an  hour's  walk  from  us,  are  both 
advanced  in  years,  and  it  would  be  unfair  to  trouble  them 
with  visitors.  Besides  their  station  was  burnt  down  during 
the  rebellion,  so  that  they  are  leading  for  the  moment  a  more 
idyllic  than  agreeable  hfe  in  their  former  cattle-shed.    In  spite 

^  The  U.M.C.A.  (Universities'  Mission  to  Central  Africa).  Masasi 
Station  was  founded  in  1876  by  Bishop  Steere  and  the  Rev.  W.  P. 
Johnson  (now  Archdeacon  of  Nyasa). — [Tr.] 

45 


46 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


of  this,  the  two  old  gentlemen,  as  I  had  every  opportunity  of 
convincing  myself  in  the  course  of  two  long  visits,  enjoy 
extraordinarily  good  health.  Archdeacon  Carnon,  the  younger 
of  the  two,  in  particular,  took  as  lively  an  interest  in  the  German 
Emperor  and  his  family  as  if  he  lived  in  a  London  suburb, 
instead  of  in  a  negro  village  at  the  ends  of  the  earth.  Canon 
Porter  seems  to  be  failing  a  little,  but  this  is  only  to  be  expected 
as  he  is  getting  on  for  eighty  and  has  been  in  the  country  nearly 
thirty  years.  ^  In  former  days  I  understand  that  he  studied 
the  ethnology  of  his  district  (inhabited  by  Wanyasa,  Wayao, 
and  Wamakonde)  very  thoroughly,  so  that  up  to  yesterday 
I  had  great  hopes  of  profitable  results  from  my  intercourse 
with  him  and  his  more  active  colleague.  But  in  this  I  was 
disappointed.  At  the  ceremonious,  and,  I  must  say,  sump- 
tuous breakfast  which  the  tw^o  clerical  gentlemen  set  before  us 
two  worldlings,  Ewerbeck  and  me,  whenever  I  began  to  speak 
about  the  inhabitants  of  the  neighbourhood  and  their  tribal 
affinities,  the  conversation  was  invariably  diverted  towards 
the  Emperor  and  his  family  !  He  must  have  made  a  truly 
extraordinary  impression  on  other  nations. 

However,  our  business  is  with  the  native  African,  not  with 
the  white  intruder,  even  though  he  should  come  in  the  peaceful 
guise  of  the  missionary. 

My  landing  at  Lindi  of  itself  implied  the  main  course  of  my 
journey.  A  glance  at  the  map  of  East  Africa  shows  that  the 
extreme  south-eastern  corner  of  our  colony,  considered  with 
regard  to  population,  stands  out  like  an  island  from  the  almost 
uninhabited  country  surrounding  it.  The  region  north  of  the 
Middle,  and  partly  also  of  the  Upper  Rovuma  is  (as  Lieder,  the 
geologist,  whose  early  death  is  such  a  loss  to  science,  described 
it)  a  silent' port  for  hundreds  of  miles,  extending  far  beyond 
the  Umbekuru  and  into  the  hinterland  of  Kilw^a — an  unin- 
habited wilderness,  where  not  a  single  native  village  speaks 
of  the  large  and  peaceable  population  found  here  by  Roscher, 
Livingstone  and  Von  Der  Decken  nearly  half-a-century  ago. 
Only  a  narrow  strip  running  parallel  to  the  coast  some  distance 
inland  connects  this  island  of  population  with  the  north,  while 
another,  much  more  scantily  peopled,  runs  up  the  Rovuma  to 
the  Nyasa  country. 

1  Canon  Porter  went  out  to  Africa  in  1880. 


48 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Being  thus  cut  off  from  surrounding  tribes,  the  south-east — - 
i.e.,  the  Makonde  Plateau,  the  Lukuledi  Valley  north  of  it, 
and  the  wide  plain  to  the  west  of  these  highlands — forms  a 
compact,  well-defined  whole,  an  ideal  sphere  of  work  for  one 

who,  like  myself,  has 
only  a  limited  time  at 
his  disposal,  but  wishes 
the  work  done  in  this 
time  to  be  as  far  as 
possible  complete.  The 
Wamwera,  whom  I  had 
in  view  in  the  first 
instance,  have  had,  to 
my  great  regret,  to  be 
postponed  for  the 
present.  I  left  Lindi 
on  July  11th,  with  the 
Imperial  District  Com- 
missioner, Mr.  Ewer- 
beck.  Ngurumahamba, 
the  first  noticeable  place 
on  the  Lukuledi  road, 
still  bears  the  impress 
of  the  Coast — there  is 
even  a  stone  house 
among  the  huts  of  the 
Waswahili ;  but  on  the 
second  day  we  reach  the 
Yao  tribe  at  Mtua. 
Here  we  first  come  in 
touch  with  the  far  in- 
terior, for  these  are  the 
advance  guard  of  the 
great  migration  which 
brought  this  vigorous 
and  energetic  race  about  the  middle  of  the  last  century 
from  its  old  home  south-east  of  Lake  Nyasa  towards  the 
shores  of  the  Indian  Ocean,  and  which  is  still  going  on.  As  to 
the  way  in  which  these  migrations  are  accomplished,  we  are 
apt  to  be  misled  by  the  picture — no  doubt  a  very  incorrect 


A  MAN  OF  THE  MWERA  TRIBE  AND  A  YAO 


THE  YAOS 


49 


one — which  has  remained  in  our  minds  from  '  our  school-days, 
in  connection  with  the  migration  par  excellence — the  great 
westward  movement  of  our  own  forefathers.  We  think  of  men, 
horses,  and  waggons,  a  dense,  compact  wave  of  people,  rolling 
on  slowly  but  irresistibly  across  the  countries  lying  in  its  track. 
Here  we  find  nothing  of  the  sort.  It  is  true  that  these  Mtua 
Yaos  are  not  typical  of  their  tribe  in  this  respect,  as  they  were 
rescued  from  the  Wangoni,  further  north,  on  the  eastern  shore 
of  Nyasa,  about  ten  years  ago  by  Captain  Engelhardt,  and 
transferred  to  this  settlement.  But  otherwise  the  immigration 
of  foreign  (though  still  African)  elements  takes  place,  here  in 
the  south,  quietly  and  almost  imperceptibly — a  band,  a  horde, 
a  group  of  families,  sometimes,  but  not  alw^ays,  under  the 
command  of  a  chief,  appears  one  fine  day,  hoes  a  piece  of  land 
at  a  suitable  place  in  the  pori,  builds  a  few  airy  huts,  and  the 
immigration  is  complete.  Conflicts,  more  or  less  sanguinary, 
between  the  aborigines  and  the  intruders  may  have  occurred — 
may  even  have  been  the  rule — in  former  times  ;  nothing  of 
the  kind  seems  to  happen  to-day.  Whether  the  native  has 
become  more  tolerant,  or  the  firm  hand  of  the  German  Govern- 
ment, to  whom  every  accession  of  population  must  be  welcome, 
has  produced  a  change  in  his  views,  I  am  compelled  to  leave 
undecided. 

In  outw^ard  appearance  these  Yaos  can  scarcely  be  distin- 
guished from  the  Swahilis  of  the  coast.  The  women  are  dressed 
in  precisely  the  same  kind  of  kanga  (calico  printed  in  brightly- 
coloured  patterns,  and  manufactured  in  Holland),  as  the  Coast 
women,  though  not  so  neatly  and  fashionably  as  the  girls  at 
Dar  es  Salam,  where  the  patterns  in  vogue  change  faster  than 
even  at  Paris.  They  also  wear  the  same  coquettish  little  pin 
in  the  left  nostril  as  the  Coast  ladies.  Of  Indian  origin,  this 
kipini,  called  chipini  in  Yao,  has  conquered  the  whole  east 
coast  of  Africa,  and  is  spreading,  as  a  symbol  of  higher  culture 
and  refinement,  among  the  more  progressive  tribes  of  the 
interior.  In  its  simplest  form  a  mere  cylinder  of  pith,  the 
better  specimens  are  made — according  to  the  means  of  the 
wearer — of  ebony,  tin,  or  silver.  The  ebony  pins  are  almost 
always  very  tastefully  inlaid  with  tin.  To  our  notions,  the 
chipini  hardly  beautifies  the  human  countenance  ;  but  once 
the  beholder  is  accustomed  to  its  effect,  it  becomes  quite 

4— (2131) 


50 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


pretty  and  attractive,  lending  a  coquettish  touch  to  the  brown 
face  it  adorns. 

The  more  distant  hinterland  inhabited  by  the  Wamwera 
contrasts  very  unfavourably  with  the  well-cultivated  zone  near 
the  coast.  The  condition  of  Nyangao,  the  Benedictine  Mission 
station,  is  a  symptom  of  all  the  misery  which  the  rebelhon  so 
short-sightedly  conjured  up  by  the  natives  has  brought  on  this 


RUINS   OF  NYANGAO  MISSION  STATION 


part  of  Africa.  Up  to  the  summer  of  1905,  the  Fathers  and. 
Sisters  here  were  peacefully  engaged  in  their  work  of  evangeliz- 
ing and  teaching,  when  the  poison  of  the  majimaji  (magic 
water)  idea  spread  to  the  Rondo  Plateau  and  the  central 
Lukuledi  Valley.  Before  the  unsuspicious  missionaries  had  even 
any  thought  of  coming  disaster,  it  was  already  upon  them. 
After  fighting  desperately  for  their  lives,  and  losing  one  of  the 
Sisters,  the  whole  staff  had  to  fly,  and  all  the  extensive  buildings 
were  destroyed  by  the  rebels.  The  present  state  of  Nyangao 
is  shown  in  the  accompanying  photograph.  Three  of  the 
Fathers  (whose  acquaintance  I  had  the  pleasure  of  making  on 
board  the  Prmzregent),  have  ventured  back  to  their  old  station, 
and,  living  in  the  house  formerly  occupied  by  the  Sisters, 


REBELLION  MEMORIES 


51 


surrounded  by  heaps  of  ruins,  have  courageously  and 
indefatigably  taken  up  their  work  once  more. 

The  Majimaji  rebelhon  stih  forms  the  principal  topic  of 
conversation  at  native  camp-fires,  though  the  Lindi  District 
has  long  been  at  peace  again.  Its  origin  belongs  to  the  most 
interesting  phenomena  in  mihtar}^  histor^^  showing,  as  it  does, 
the  general  and  almost  instantaneous  amalgamation  of  the 
severed  fragments  of  a  race  under  the  influence  of  a  super- 
stitious notion,  once  it  has  gained  a  hold  and  welded  them  into  a 
unit  an  mated  by  a  common  and  fervid  enthusiasm.  So  far 
as  one  can  gather  at  present,  the  idea  underlying  the  rising 
was  that  of  shaking  off  the  white  man's  yoke  by  means  of  a 
concerted  effort  on  the  part  of  the  whole  native  population. 
Without  dawa,  i.e.,  charms  of  some  sort,  such  a  rising  would 
have  been  difficult,  if  not  impossible  to  bring  about,  and  thus 
the  instigators  of  this  disastrous  war  had  recourse  to  the  dawa 
of  the  "  magic  water."  As  to  this,  several  versions  are  current. 
According  to  one,  the  real  ringleader  was  a  man  living  near  the 
Pangani  Rapids  on  the  Rufiji,  who  taught  that  he  was  com- 
missioned by  the  Almighty,  and  communicated  with  Him  by 
means  of  a  serpent  which  had  its  abode  in  the  river.  This 
serpent  had  told  him  to  make  all  the  men  drink  the  water  of  the 
hot  springs  at  Kimambare,  which  would  give  them  strength 
and  courage  to  drive  the  Germans  into  the  sea,  and  at  the  same 
time  render  them  invulnerable  to  European  bullets. 

The  other  version  current  in  Usagara,  in  the  north  of  the 
Colony,  says  nothing  of  the  serpent  or  the  hot  water,  but  states 
that  the  sorcerers  began  by  ordermg  large  beer-drinkings  in 
every  village.  When  the  pomhe  had  produced  its  effect,  the 
villagers  were  initiated  into  the  conspiracy,  and  received  their 
dawa,  of  whose  composition  no  details  are  given,  but  which, 
in  this  case  also,  was  supposed  to  possess  the  power  of  making 
them  invulnerable,  so  that  the  bullets  of  the  Germans  would 
simply  be  changed  into  water  as  soon  as  they  left  the 
rifle-barrel.  The  Majimaji  soon  discovered,  in  the  course  of 
numerous  battles  that  this  was  not  the  case,  but  nevertheless, 
the  fanaticism  of  these  natives,  who,  under  a  murderous  fire, 
charged  up  to  within  a  spear's  length  of  the  machine-guns — 
the  bumbum,  as  they  call  them — is  truly  astonishing. 

From  the  coast  to  a  little  beyond  Nyangao  the  character  of 


52 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


the  vegetation  is  essentially  different  from  that  which  we  find 
farther  west.  The  greater  part  of  the  road  (the  harahara,  in 
the  carriers'  jargon,  that  is  to  sa}^  the  path  cut  to  the  regulation 
width  on  which  all  the  long-distance  traffic  takes  place)  runs 
as  far  as  Nyangao  through  thick  scrub  from  10  to  15  feet  high, 
from  which  rise  here  and  there  single  trees  of  twice  or  three 
times  that  height.  Several  times  in  the  course  of  the  day's 
march  the  traveller  comes  across  large  open  spaces  in  the  bush 
on  either  side  of  the  path.  It  is  clear  from  the  absence  of 
underwood  and  the  presence  of  charred  stumps  that  this 
is  old  cultivated  ground — no  doubt  the  sites  of  former  villages. 
But  where  are  the  huts  and  where  the  people  who  once  hoed 
their  gardens  here  ?  Here  we  find  a  typical  touch  of  African 
history,  more  especially  in  recent  times,  when  its  primitive 
conditions  have  been  modified  by  the  modern  plantation- 
system  with  its  demand  for  labour  and  the  necessity  for  a 
native  military  force.  Originally  and  in  himself  the  African 
is  by  no  means  shy,  on  the  contrary,  he  is  inquisitive  and  fully 
alive  to  the  attractions  of  town  life  and  social  intercourse. 
But  he  cannot  stand  having  his  private  affairs  interfered  with. 
Every  caravan  of  inland  natives  on  their  way  to  the  coast, 
whether  to  sell  their  supplies  of  wax,  tobacco  or  what  not,  or 
to  engage  themselves  as  labourers  to  some  European,  con- 
sidered that  they  had  a  natural  right  to  expect  food  and  drink 
from  the  villagers  along  their  route.  Even  the  caravan  of  a 
white  man  is  apt  to  make  the  same  sort  of  demands  on  the 
villagers.  How  often  have  I  seen  my  men  scatter  at  every 
halt,  to  ask  for  some  service  or  other — perhaps  merely  the 
loan  of  a  gourd  dipper — at  one  or  other  of  the  straggling  huts, 
which  rnay  be  half-a-mile  apart.  However  good-natured  and 
obhging  the  native  may  be,  he  cannot  put  up  with  an  indefinite 
continuance  of  such  disturbances  to  the  quiet  of  his  home  life, 
and  therefore  prefers  to  pull  down  his  huts  and  build  new  ones 
in  the  bush  at  a  distance  from  the  main  road,  where  they  can 
only  be  reached  by  narrow  side  paths. 

Anthropologically  speaking,  one  might  take  the  Wamwera 
for  Indians,  such  is  the  lustrous  copper  tone  of  their  skins. 
At  first  I  thought  that  this  marked  redness  of  tint  was  a 
peculiarity  of  the  tribe,  but  have  since  met  with  many 
individuals  of  exactly  the  same  shade  among  the  Makua  of 


THE  WAMWERA 


53 


Hatia's,  Nangoo  and  Chikugwe,  and  a  few  among  the  Yaos  at  this 
place  and  those  at  Mtua,  and  Mtama.  In  fact,  it  seems  to  me 
very  difficult  to  do  any  really  satisfactory  anthropological 
work  here — the  types  are  too  much  mixed,  and  it  is  impossible 
to  tell  from  any  man's  features  the  tribe  to  which  he  belongs. 
Probably,  indeed,  there  is  no  distinction  of  race  at  all,  for 
Wamwera,  Wangindo,  Wayao,  Makonde,  Matambwe  and 
Makua  alike  belong  to  the  great  sub-group  of  the  East  African 
Bantu.  This  is  one  additional  reason,  when  time  is  so  precious, 
for  giving  to  anthropology  even  less  attention  than  I  had 
originally  planned.  Let  the  gentlemen  come  out  here  them- 
selves with  their  measuring  instruments,  compasses  and  poles — 
we  ethnographers  have  more  urgent  work  to  attend  to. 

The  Wamwera  are  just  now  in  a  deplorable  condition.  The 
whole  of  this  tribe  was  concerned  in  the  rising,  and  though 
refusing  to  acknowledge  defeat  in  battle  after  battle,  were 
ultimately  forced  to  take  refuge  in  the  bush.  The  mere  fact 
of  living  for  months  without  shelter  in  the  rainy  season  would 
of  itself  cause  suffering  enough  ;  and  w^hen  we  add  that  they 
have  had  no  harvest,  being  unable  to  sow  their  crops  at  the 
beginning  of  the  rains,  it  can  readily  be  understood  that 
numbers  must  have  perished.  Now  that  most  of  the  ring- 
leaders have  been  secured  and  sent  down  to  the  coast,  the 
survivors  are  gradually  coming  forth  from  their  hiding-places. 
But  what  a  spectacle  do  the  poor  creatures  present  !  encrusted 
more  thickly  than  usual  with  dirt,  emaciated  to  skeletons, 
suffering  from  skin-diseases  of  various  kinds,  with  inflamed 
eyes — and  exhaling  a  nauseous  effluvium.  But  at  least  they 
are  willing  to  face  the  white  man — a  sign  of  newly-established 
confidence  in  our  rule  which  must  not  be  undervalued. 

Several  hours'  hard  marching  from  Nyangao  bring  us  to 
the  residence  of  "  Sultan  "  Hatia.  He  is  the  fourth  of  his  name 
on  this  tiny  throne  of  the  Makua.  The  grave  of  his  predecessor, 
Hatia  HI,  lies  in  a  deep  cave  on  the  Unguruwe  mountain. 
This  mountain  is  really  a  promontory  of  the  Makonde  plateau 
projecting  far  into  the  Lukuledi  plain.  It  is  visible  from  the 
road  for  several  days  before  we  reach  it,  with  its  gleaming 
red  cliff-face,  which  might  fitly  be  described  as  the  emblem 
of  the  whole  Central  Lukuledi  region.  It  also  plays  a  great 
part  in  the  myths  and  legends  of  the  local  tribes.  The 


54 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


traditions  of  the  past  had  already  gathered  round  it  before  the 
burial  of  Hatia  III  ;  but  now  that  the  dead  chief  rests  in 
a  dark  ravine  forbidden  to  every  profane  footstep,  from  the 
toil  and  turmoil  of  his  life,  the  Unguruwe  has  become  in  popular 
belief  a  sanctuary  where,  on  moonhght  nights,  Hatia  rises  from 
his  grave,  and  assembles  the  ghosts  of  his  subjects  round  him 
for  the  dance. 

Hatia  IV  had  returned  to  his  capital  just  before  our  arrival, 
having  had  some  months'  leisure  on  the  coast,  in  which  to  think 
over  the  consequences  of  the  rising.  He  impressed  me  as  a 
broken  man,  physically  in  no  better  case  than  his  subjects  ; 
moreover  he  was  no  better  lodged,  and  certainly  no  better 
provided  with  food  than  they.  On  the  day  of  our  halt  at  his 
village,  he  was  more  than  ordinarily  depressed.  A  few  hours 
previously  a  lion,  whose  impudence  has  made  him  famous 
throughout  the  country,  had  in  broad  daylight  dragged  a 
woman  out  of  a  hut,  not  far  from  the  chief's  dw^elling.  The 
prints  of  the  enormous  paws  were  still  quite  clear  in  the  sand,  so 
that  we  could  track  the  robber  right  round  the  hut  in  which  a 
man  with  his  wife  and  child  had  been  sitting  at  their  ease.  The 
great  brute  had  suddenly  sprung  on  the  woman  who  was  sitting 
next  the  door.  Her  husband  tried  to  hold  her,  but  was  weak 
from  illness,  and  could  offer  no  effectual  resistance.  Though 
for  some  time  the  poor  creature's  shrieks,  "  Nna  kufa  !  Nna 
kiifa  !  " — "  I  die  !  I  die  !  " — could  be  heard  in  the  bush,  growing 
fainter  and  fainter,  no  one  could  come  to  her  help,  for  the 
people  have  been  deprived  of  their  guns  since  the  rising,  and 
even  if  they  had  had  them,  there  was  no  ammunition,  the 
importation  of  this  having  been  stopped  some  time  ago. 

The  nephew  and  heir  of  Hatia  IV  is  to  take  the  part  of 
avenger.  He  is  a  handsome,  jet-black  youth  with  a  small 
frizzled  moustache  on  his  upper  lip,  and  an  enviably  thick 
growth  of  woolly  hair  on  his  scalp.  Armed  with  a  rifle,  of  which 
he  is  unconscionably  proud,  he  has  come  with  us  from  Lindi 
in  order  to  deliver  his  people  from  the  plague  of  lions.  Such 
an  expression  is,  in  truth,  no  exaggeration  as  far  as  this  place 
is  concerned.  It  is  said  that  the  whole  length  of  the  road 
from  Nyangao  to  Masasi  has  been  divided  between  four  pairs 
of  lions,  each  of  which  patrols  its  own  section,  on  the 
look-out  for  human  victims.     Even  the  three  missionaries  at 


FEMININE  FASHIONS 


55 


Nyangao  are  not  safe  ;  Father  Clement,  when  out  for  a  walk, 
not  long  ago,  suddenly  found  himself  face  to  face  with  a  huge 
lion,  who,  however,  seemed  quite  as  much  startled  by  the 
incident  as  the  good  Father  himself. 

After  examining  the  architecture  of  the  present  Wamwera 
huts,  I  can  easily  understand  how  the  lion  at  Hatia's  could 
drag  the  woman  out  from  the  interior.  Anyone  desirous  of 
studying  the  evolution  of  the  human  dwelling-house  could  very 
well  see  its  beginnings  here.  Most  of  these  dwellings  are  nothing 
more  or  less  than  two  w^alls,  consisting  of  bundles  of  grass 
roughly  tied  together,  and  leaning  against  each  other  in  a 
slanting  position.  The  addition  of  gable-ends  marks  quite  a 
superior  class  of  house.  Besides  this,  the  Wamwera  have  been 
compelled  to  build  their  huts,  such  as  they  are,  in  the  untouched 
jungle,  since  they  have  lost  all  they  had,  even  the  necessary 
implements  for  tillage  and  for  clearing  the  bush.  Their  villages, 
containing  their  only  possessions  of  any  value,  were  of  course 
levelled  with  the  ground  by  our  troops.  The  lion  is  shy  of  open 
spaces,  but  feels  at  home  in  the  pori,  which  he  looks  upon  as  his 
natural  hunting-ground,  and  where  he  can  creep  unseen  close 
up  to  a  hut  before  making  his  deadly  spring. 

One  point  I  must  not  forget.  Even  before  leaving  Lindi, 
my  mouth  had  watered  at  the  descriptions  I  heard  of  the 
extraordinary  appearance  presented  by  the  Wamwera  women. 
But  I  find  that  these  descriptions  come  far  short  of  the  reality. 
The  famous  Botocudos  of  Brazil  with  their  labrets  are  nothing 
to  the  southern  tribes  of  German  East  Africa.  I  had  long 
known  that  the  Makonde  plateau  and  the  whole  surrounding 
country  belong  to  the  region  of  the  pelele,  or  lip-ring,  but  I  have 
never  come  across  a  good  illustration  of  earlier  date  than  my 
own.  The  accompanying  reproductions  of  photographs  will 
show  the  nature  of  this  extraordinary  decoration  more  clearly 
than  any  description. 

The  pelele,  or,  as  it  is  called  in  Kimwera,  itona,  is  only  worn 
by  the  women,  but  among  them  it  is  universal.  It  is  a  peg,  in 
older  persons  even  an  actual  disc,  of  ebony,  or  else  of  some  light- 
coloured  wood  bleached  snow-white  with  argillaceous  earth, 
inserted  in  the  upper  lip,  which  is  perforated  and  stretched  to 
receive  it.  Of  course,  a  disc  the  size  of  a  two-shilhng  piece  is 
not  inserted  all  at  once  :   the  operation  is  very  gradual  and 


56  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


A  MWERA  WOMAN 


begins  by  piercing  the  lip, 
between  a  girl's  seventh  and 
ninth  year,  with  the  end  of  a 
razor  which  is  ground  into  the 
shape  of  an  awl.  ^  The  hole  is 
kept  open  by  inserting  a  foreign 
body  of  small  size,  such  as  a  thin 
stalk  of  grass,  or  the  like.  It  is 
then  enlarged  by  adding  another 
stalk  at  regular  intervals;  and 
/  "^iypnHM^  after  a  time,  a  strip  of  palm-leaf 
/  '  rolled  up  into  a  spiral  is  sub- 

stituted. This,  being  elastic, 
presses  against  the  sides  of  the 
opening,  and  so,  in  due  course  renders  it  large  enough  to  receive 
the  first  soHd  plug.  Among  the  Wamwera  the  diameter  of  this 
varies  from  the  thickness  of  a  finger  to  the  size  of  a  florin  ;  the 
older  Makonde  women,  however,  are  said  to  have  them  twice 
as  large.  Naturally  I  am  all  impatience 
to  see  these  people,  whose  country, 
moreover,  is  as  yet  a  complete  terra 
incognita,  as  far  as  science  is  concerned. 

Not  content  with  the  itona,  the  old 
women  sometimes  wear  a  pin  or  peg  in 
the  lower  lip,  called  nigulila.  It  is 
long  and  slender,  ending  in  a  round 
knob,  and  is  intended  to  divert  the  eye 
from  the  withered  skin  and  faded 
charms  of  the  wearer.  ^  Discs  or  plugs 
inserted  in  the  lobe  of  the  ear  are  also 
very  general.  Furthermore,  the 
countenance  of  these  fair  ones  are 
covered  with  extraordinary  scars  which, 


YOUNG    MAN   OF  THE 
MWERA  TRIBE 


1  This  is  more  intelligible  if  we  remember  the  shape  of  the  native 
razor,  which  is  usually  about  five  or  six  inches  long,  with  the  cutting 
end  like  a  spatula  and  tapering  back  into  a  stalk-like  handle,  the  end 
of  which  could  easily  be  sharpened  as  an  awl. 

2  Mr.  J.  T.  Last  says  that  some  of  the  Makua  women,  "  in  addition  to 
the  pelele,  wear  a  brass  or  iron  nail  from  four  to  seven  inches  in  length 
.  .  .  passed  through  a  hole  in  the  lower  lip  and  left  hanging  in  front  of 
the  chin.  When  a  lady  cannot  afford  a  metal  ornament  of  the  sort, 
she  utilizes  a  piece  of  stick  which  she  covers  with  beads." 


A  MWERA  BEAUTY 


57 


at  a  distance,  suggest  that  they  must  have  passed  their  youth 
at  a  German  university.  On  a  close  inspection  it  will  be  found 
that  these  are  not  scars,  left  by  straight  cuts,  but  consist  of  a 
multitude  of  small  keloids 
arranged  in  various  patterns. 
The  patterns  are  made  by 
parallel  rows  of  small  cuts 
(usually  vertical),  which  have 
been  prevented  from  healing 
by  repeatedly  opening  them 
during  the  process  of  cicatriza- 
tion. Thus  in  the  course  of 
weeks  and  months  they  take 
the  form  of  conspicuous  swell- 
ings which,  in  their  totality, 
give  a  distinctive  character 
to  the  whole  physiognomy. 

Even  this  is  not  enough  to 
satisfy  the  craving  of  the 
Wamwera  women  for  adorn- 
ment. If  the  cloth  draping 
chest  and  back  slips  aside  for 
a  moment,  either  through  an 
incautious  movement  on  the 
part  of  the  wearer  or  through 
the  inseparable  baby  being 
shifted  from  its  usual  place 
on  its  mother's  back  to  her 
hip — the  astonished  eye  dis- 
covers that  the  surfaces  thus 
revealed  are  adorned  with 
markings  similar  to  those  on 
the  face.  Even  the  hips  and 
upper  part  of  the  thighs  are 
said  to  be  covered  with  them. 
The  ethnographer,  reflecting 
on  these  and  other  queer 
manifestations  of  human 
vanity,  may  be  tempted, 
perhaps,   to  indulge    in    a     mwera  woman  with  pin  in  lower 


58 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


comfortable  sense  of  superiority.  But,  after  all,  the 
fashion  of  wearing  earrings  is  not  quite  extinct  in  Europe  ; 
and  the  advantages  of  the  corset,  considered  as  an  aid 
to  beauty,  might  be  quite  as  much  open  to  discussion  as  the 
African  ornaments  we  have  just  been  describing.  I  am  alluding, 
of  course,  to  those  women  who  think  that  tight  lacing  improves 
the  figure.  Otherwise  I  am  inclined  to  agree  with  Max  Buchner 
of  Munich,  who  thinks  that  some  form  of  this  article  would 
be  of  great  service  to  the  women  of  all  the  less-clothed  races 
among  whom  appliances  for  supporting  the  bust  are  unknown. 

Up  to  the  present,  I  have  been  able  to  see  but  little  of  the 
real  life  of  the  inland  tribes,  yet  that  little  has  been  very  inter- 
esting. On  the  march  to  Masasi  I  noticed  that  wherever  the 
natives  had  taken  an  active  part  in  the  rebellion,  the  roads  were 
in  perfect  order,  while  in  the  territory  of  the  friendly  tribes 
they  were  nearly  impassable  with  high  grass,  and  sometimes 
bushes.  These  allies  of  ours  are  now,  secure  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  their  past  services,  saying  to  themselves  that  they  may 
take  things  easy  for  a  time,  as  the  "Mdachi"  will  surely 
consider  their  loyalty  and  make  no  very  severe  demands  on 
them.  Captain  Ewerbeck,  however,  has  been  laying  down  the 
law  with  great  precision  and  energy  to  the  Akidas  and  Jumbes, 
the  district  chiefs  and  village  headmen,  who  are  responsible 
for  order  within  their  own  districts. 

One  can  enjoy  magnificent  spectacles  by  night  in  Africa. 
Sitting  in  front  of  my  tent  on  the  way  here,  or  now,  when  I 
step  out  in  front  of  the  Baraza — the  rest-house  in  which 
I  have  taken  up  my  abode — I  see,  wherever  I  turn  my  eyes, 
the  red  glow  of  flames  on  the  horizon.  This  is  the  burning 
of  the  grass — a  custom  practised  by  the  Africans  for  thousands 
of  years.  It  may  be  remembered  that  when  Hanno,  on  his 
voyage  from  Carthage,  sailed  down  the  West  coast  of 
Africa,  nothing  produced  such  a  deep  and  lasting  impression 
of  terror  on  himself  and  his  crew  as  the  streams  of  fire 
seen  to  flow  down  from  the  coast-ranges  at  night.  In 
my  opinion,  which,  of  course,  I  do  not  consider  decisive,  these 
streams  of  fire  were  certainly  not,  as  has  so  often  been  main- 
tained, connected  with  any  volcanic  phenomena,  but  resulted 
from  the  processes  still  put  into  operation  by  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Dark  Continent  every  night  during  the  dry  season. 


60 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Much  has  been  written  in  our  Colonial  publications  with 
regard  to  the  benefit  or  injury  to  be  derived  from  this  grass- 
burning.  Some  condemn  it  as  deleterious  to  the  growth  of 
trees,  while  others  take  the  part  of  the  natives  and  say  that 
only  by  burning  off  the  high  grass  and  brushwood  of  the 
African  forest  at  regular  intervals  can  they  possibly  get  the 
upper  hand  of  the  vermin,  which  would  otherwise  increase  by 
myriads.  Besides,  it  is  said,  the  ashes  are  for  the  present  the 
only  manure  that  can  be  applied  on  a  large  scale.  I  do  not 
feel  justified  in  attempting  a  decision,  but  confine  myself  to 
admiring  the  magnificent  effect  of  the  near  and  distant  fires, 
reflected  in  the  most  varied  gradations  of  light  and  colour 
in  the  misty  atmosphere.  None  of  these  fires,  moreover, 
is  dangerous  to  the  traveller  ;  where  the  flames  seize  a  patch 
of  complete^  dry  grass,  they  rush  along,  it  is  true,  with 
a  noise  like  the  crackling  of  musketry-fire  ;  but  otherwise, 
and  indeed  in  general,  the  people  have  to  keep  up  the  con- 
flagration by  systematic  kindling  of  the  grass  in  fresh  places. 
In  any  case  they  have  the  direction  and  extent  of  the  fire  fully 
under  control. 

This  burning  is,  so  far  as  I  am  enabled  to  judge,  only  possible 
where  the  remarkable  form  of  vegetation  prevails  which 
characterizes  the  greater  part  of  Africa,  and  covers  the 
whole  extent  of  the  great  plain  on  the  west  and  north-west  of 
the  Makonde  plateau.  This  is  the  "  open  bush  and  grass 
steppe  "  (lichte  Baumgr as- steppe)  as  it  has  been  very  appro- 
priately named  by  the  geologist  Bornhardt.  In  fact,  this  form 
of  vegetation  is  neither  exclusively  forest  nor  altogether 
steppe  ;  it  unites  the  characters  of  the  two.  Imagine  a  parti- 
cularly neglected  orchard,  in  some  rural  part  of  Germany 
(where  I  am  sorry  to  say  the  farmers  still  pay  far  too  little 
attention  to  this  branch  of  cultivation),  and  fill  up  the  spaces 
between  the  scattered  apple,  pear  or  plum  trees,  not  with  our 
modest  German  grass  but  with  the  African  variety,  two  or 
three  yards  high  and  more  like  canes,  mix  this  with  underw^ood 
— thorny,  but  not  very  close — and  finally  bind  together  the  tops 
of  the  trees  (whxh  are  not  very  high — certainly  none  of  them 
over  forty  feet — and  all  varieties  having  a  sort  of  general 
resemblance  to  our  maple)  by  means  of  a  system  of  airy  hanas. 
Having  done  all  this,  you  have,  without  any  further  strain  on 


"  FORI" 


61 


the  imagination,  a  fairly  correct  picture  of  what  is  here  gener- 
ally called  pori,  though  in  the  North  the  name  of  "  myomho 
forest  "  is  more  usually  applied  to  it.  During  the  rains,  and 
just  after  them,  this  pori  must  undeniably  have  its  charms, — 
in  fact,  Ewerbeck  and  his  companion  Knudsen  are  indefatigable 
in  singing  its  praises  as  it  appears  in  that  season.  Now,  on 
the  other  hand,  in  July,  it  is  anything  but  beautiful  :  it  neither 
impresses  us  by  the  number  and  size  of  its  trees,  nor  refreshes 
us  with  any  shade  whatever,  nor  presents  the  shghtest  variation 
in  the  eternal  monotony  which  greets  the  traveller  as  soon  as 
he  leaves  Nyangao  and  crosses  to  the  right  bank  of  the  Luku- 
ledi  and  from  which  he  only  escapes  after  a  march  of  several 
weeks,  high  up  on  the  Upper  Rovuma.  "  So  this  is  the 
exuberant  fertility  of  the  tropics,  and  this  is  what  an  evergreen 
primeval  forest  looks  like  !  "  I  thought,  after  enjoying  this 
spectacle  for  the  space  of  a  whole  day.  Just  as  with  regard  to 
the  alleged  want  of  appetite  experienced  by  Europeans  in  the 
tropics,  we  ought  to  see  that  the  general  public  is  more  correctly 
informed  as  to  the  supposed  fertihty  of  Equatorial  Africa,  and 
so  saved  from  forming  extravagant  notions  of  the  brilliant 
future  in  store  for  our  colonies. 

The  pori  becomes  downright  unpleasant  wherever  the  owners 
of  the  country  have  just  been  burning  it.  To  right  and  left 
of  the  road  extends  a  thick  layer  of  black  or  grey  ashes,  on 
which,  here  and  there,  lies  a  dead  tree,  steadily  smouldering 
away.  Now  that  there  is  no  grass  to  obstruct  the  view, 
the  eye  ranges  unhindered  through  what  at  other  times  is 
impenetrable  bush.  For  the  sportsman  this  state  of  things 
is  a  pleasure,  as  he  can  now  see  game  at  almost  any  distance ; 
but  for  the  traveller,  especially  if  encumbered  with  a  large 
caravan,  it  is  nothing  less  than  torture.  This  is  not  so  much 
the  case  in  the  early  morning,  when  the  fine  particles  of  dust 
are  laid  by  the  heavy  dews  ;  but,  when  the  sun  rises  higher, 
marked  differences  of  temperature  are  produced  within  a 
comparatively  small  area.  Tramping  on  through  the  glowing 
heat  of  noon,  suspecting  no  harm  and  intending  none,  the 
traveller  suddenly  sees  something  whirling  in  front  of  his  feet — 
a  black  snake  spinning  round  in  a  raging  vortex,  rises  straight 
up,  dances  round  him  in  coquettish  curves,  and  then  vanishes 
sideways  behind  the  trees,  with  a  low  chuckle,  as  if  in  derision 


62 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


of  the  stranger  and  his  immaculately  clean  khaki  suit.  The 
native  followers  have  not  suffered,  being  of  the  same  colour 
as  the  insidious  foe.  But  what  is  the  aspect  presented  by  the 
leader  of  the  expedition  !  Though  not  guaranteed  to  wash,  he 
presents  a  sufficiently  close  resemblance  to  a  blackamoor,  and 
under  the  circumstances,  the  faithful  Moritz  and  Kibwana,  as 
soon  as  we  have  reached  camp,  will  have  no  more  pressing 
task  than  to  prepare  the  bath  for  their  master  and  thoroughly 
soap  him  down  from  the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot. 
And  all  this  is  the  work  of  the  fori  whirlwind. 

In  these  small  distresses  of  life  on  the  march,  the  imper- 
turbable cheerfulness  of  the  natives  is  always  a  comfort. 
Among  the  Wamw^ra  on  the  scene  of  the  late  rising,  there  was 
little  inclination  for  dancing  and  merriment — the  prevailing 
misery  was  too  great  ;  but  everywhere  else,  before  our  camp 
was  even  half  arranged,  the  inhabitants  of  the  place  had 
assembled  in  crowds,  and  the  scene  which  ensued  was  always 
the  same  in  its  general  features,  though  varying  in  detail. 
The  negro  has  to  dance.  As  the  German,  whenever  anything 
lifts  him  out  of  the  dead  level  of  the  workaday  mood, 
feels  irresistibly  impelled  to  sing,  so  the  African  misses  no 
opportunity  of  assembling  for  a  ngoma.  The  word 
ngoma,  in  its  original  signification  means  nothing  more  than  a 
drum  ;  in  an  extended  sense  it  denotes  all  festivities  carried 
on  to  the  sound  of  the  drum.  These  festivities  have  an 
indisputable  advantage  over  ours,  in  that  the  instrumental 
music,  dancing,  and  singing  are  all  simultaneous.  The  band 
drums,  but  also  occasionally  improvises  songs,  the  audience 
standing  round  in  a  circle  form  the  chorus  and  at  the  same 
time  march  round  the  band  to  the  rhythm  of  the  song.  This 
is  the  usual  picture,  with  all  its  strangeness  so  fascinating  that 
the  oldest  residents  in  the  coast  towns  do  not  think  it  beneath 
their  dignity  to  honour  this  expression  of  aboriginal  life  by 
attending  from  time  to  time,  if  only  for  a  few  minutes.  Other 
and  less  sophisticated  whites  are  regular  habitues  at  these 
festivals,  and  never  let  a  Saturday  evening  pass — this  being 
the  day  when  ngomas  are  allowed  by  law — without  standing 
for  hours  among  the  panting  and  perspiring  crowd.  One  of 
these  dances,  executed  by  the  women  of  every  place  I  have  so 
far  visited,  on  every  possible  occasion,  is  peculiarly  pleasing. 


A  WOMEN'S  DANCE 


63 


It  is  called  likwata  ("  clapping  of  hands  ").  A  number  of 
women  and  girls  stand  in  a  circle,  facing  inwards.  Suddenly 
arms  rise  into  the  air,  mouths  open,  feet  twitch  in  unison, 
and  all  goes  on  in  exact  step  and  time  ;  hand-clapping, 
singing  and  dancing.  With  the  peculiar  grace  which  char- 
acterizes all  m.ovements  of  native  women,  the  whole  circle 
moves  to  the  right,  first  one  long  step,  then  three  much  shorter. 
The  hand-clapping,  in  time  and  force,  accurately  follows  the 
above  rhythm,  as  does  the  song,  which  I  shall  presently 
reproduce.  Suddenly,  at  a  certain  beat,  two  figures  step  out 
of  the  line  of  dancers — the}^  trip  in  the  centre  of  the  circle, 
moving  round  one  another  in  definite  figures,  the  movements 
in  which,  unfortunately,  are  too  rapid  for  the  eye  to  follow — 
and  then  return  to  their  fixed  places  in  the  circle  to  make 
way  for  two  more  solo  artists.  So  the  game  goes  on,  without 
interruption  or  diminution  of  intensity,  hour  after  hour, 
regardless  of  the  babies  who,  tied  in  the  inevitable  cloth  on 
their  mothers'  backs,  have  gone  through  the  whole  perform- 
ance along  with  them.  In  this  confined,  hot,  and  often 
enough  dirty  receptacle,  they  sleep,  wake  or  dream,  while 
the  mother  wields  the  heavy  pestle,  pounding  the  maize 
in  the  mortar,  or  grinds  the  meal  on  the  stone,  while  she 
breaks  the  ground  for  sowing,  hoes  up  the  weeds  or  gathers 
in  the  crops,  while  she  carries  the  heavy  earthen  water- 
jar  on  her  head  from  the  distant  spring,  and  while,  as  now, 
she  sways  to  and  fro  in  the  dance.  No  wonder  if,  under 
such  circumstances,  the  native  baby  is  thoroughly  familiar 
with  the  national  step  and  rhythm  even  before  he  has  left 
the  carrying-cloth  and  the  maternal  breast.  The  sight  of 
tiny  shrimps  of  three  and  four  moving  with  absolute  certainty 
through  the  mazes  of  the  grown  people's  dance,  would  almost 
of  itself  be  worth  the  journey  to  East  Africa. 

And  now  come  the  very  profound  words  accompanying  this 
dance  which  seems  so  full  of  meaning  and  poetry.  The 
spectator  standing  by  and  watching  the  varied  and  graceful 
movements  of  the  women — perhaps  working  the  cinemato- 
graph at  the  same  time — is  apt,  in  spite  of  all  previous 
resolutions,  to  pay  too  little  heed  to  the  words  sung.  Wlien, 
the  dance  over,  he  arranges  the  performers  before  the 
phonograph,  he  is  tempted  to  believe  that  his  ears  have 


64 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


deceived  him,  so  utterly  inane  are  these  words.  I  have 
made  records  of  the  likwata  at  a  number  of  different  places, 
but  never  succeeded  in  getting  any  other  result  than  the 
following — 


Voices  in  Chorus.  Hainl-clapping. 


The  reader  will  agree  that  no  undue  amount  of  intellect  has 
been  lavished  on  this  ditty,  but  this  is  a  trait  common  to  all 
native  songs  here  in  the  South.  Even  those  acknowledged 
virtuosi,  my  Wanyamwezi,  cannot  do  very  much  better  in 
this  respect.  Here  we  have  really  every  right  to  say,  "  We 
Wazungu  are  better  singers  after  all  !  " 


*  This  is  not  pure  D  natural,  but  a  sound  between  D  sharp  and 
D  natural,  though  nearer  the  latter. 


MOUNTAINS  NEAR  MASASI.      DRAWN  BY  SALIM  MATOLA 


CHAPTER  V 

LOOKING  ROUND 

Masasi,  July  25,  1906. 

I  HAVE  been  here  at  Masasi  quite  a  week.  My  abode  is  a 
hut  in  the  purest  Yao  style,  built  by  the  natives  under  the 
orders  of  the  Imperial  District  Commissioner,  expressly  for 
the  benefit  of  passing  European  travellers.  This  hut — or, 
I  suppose  I  ought  to  say,  this  house,  for  it  is  a  sizeable  building 
of  some  forty  feet  by  twenty- — lies  outside  the  homa  which 
shelters  the  local  police  force.  It  is  an  oval  structure  whose 
roof  is  exactly  like  an  overturned  boat.  The  material  of  the 
walls  is,  as  everywhere  in  this  country,  bamboo,  and  wood, 
plastered  inside  and  out  with  dark  grey  clay.  My  palace  is 
superior  to  the  abodes  of  the  natives  in  the  matter  of  windows, 
though  they  are  not  glazed.  At  night,  before  I  creep  under 
my  mosquito  net  into  the  camp  bed,  the  openings  are  closed 
with  shutters  constructed  of  strong  pieces  of  bamboo.  The 
floor,  as  in  all  native  huts,  is  of  beaten  earth,  which  can  in 
general  be  kept  quite  clean,  but  is  not  calculated  for  the  sharp 
edges  of  European  boot-heels,  which  soon  play  havoc  with 
its  surface.  The  interior  forms  an  undivided  whole,  only 
interrupted  by  the  two  posts  standing  as  it  were  in  the 
foci  of  the  ellipse,  and  supporting  the  heavy  thatched  roof. 
This  projects  outward  and  downward  far  beyond  the  wall  of 
the  house,  its  outer  edge  being  carried  by  a  further  ellipse  of 
shorter  posts,  and  so  makes  a  broad  shady  passage  round  the 
whole  house,  such  as,  under  the  name  of  haraza  is  an  essential 
part  of  every  East  African  residence. 

65 


5— <2i3i) 


66 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


The  natives  give  the  name  of  Masasi  to  a  whole  district 
ahke  interesting  from  the  point  of  view  of  geography,  geology, 
/    botany  or  geography. 

Almost  immediately  after  passing  Nyangao,  as  one  comes 
from  the  coast,  begins  the  "  open  bush  and  grass  steppe  " 
already  mentioned,  while  at  the  same  time  the  edges  of  the 
Makonde  plateau  on  the  south  and  of  the  high  ground  to  the 
north  of  the  Lukuledi  retreat  further  and  further.  As  one 
walks  on,  day  after  day,  across  a  perfectly  horizontal  plain 
covered  with  the  same  monotonous  vegetation,  the  journey  is 
by  no  means  exciting.  Then,  suddenly,  at  a  turn  of  the  path, 
we  see  a  huge  cliff  of  glittering  grey.  We  draw  a  long  breath 
and  forget  all  our  fatigue  in  presence  of  this  new  charm  in  the 
landscape.  Even  the  heavy-laden  carriers  step  more  lightly. 
Suddenly  the  bush,  which  has  become  fresher  and  greener 
as  we  approach  the  rock,  ceases,  and  instead  of  the  one  cliff  we 
now  see  a  wiiole  long  range  of  rocky  peaks,  which  seem  to  stand 
as  a  barrier  right  across  our  path.  This,  however,  is  not  the 
case,  for  close  to  the  foot  of  the  first  m.ountain  the  road  turns 
sharply  to  S.S.E.,  running  parallel  and  close  to  the  range. 
When  the  range  ends,  the  road  ends  too,  for  there,  embosomed 
in  a  circle  of  "  hill-children," — as  the  native  would  say  in 
his  own  language,  i.e.,  low  hills  of  a  few  thousand  feet  or 
under, — lies  the  military  station  of  Masasi. 

The  dome-shaped  gneiss  peaks  of  Masasi  are  celebrated  in 
geological  literature  :  they  are,  in  fact,  unique,  not  in  their 
petrographic  constituents,  but  in  the  regularity  of  their  serried 
ranks.  Orographically  this  whole  region  of  East  Africa  which 
I  am  now  traversing  is  characterized  by  insular  mountains 
(Inselherge),  as  they  are  called  by  the  geologist  Bornhardt. 
The  name  is  very  appropriate,  for,  if  the  land  were  to  sink  some 
three  hundred  feet,  or  the  Indian  Ocean  to  rise  in  the  same 
degree,  the  valleys  of  the  Lukuledi,  Umbekuru  and  Rovuma,  as 
well  as,  in  all  probability,  several  rivers  in  Portuguese  East 
Africa,  and  also  the  whole  vast  plain  west  of  the  Mw^era  and 
Makonde  plateaus  would  form  one  great  lake.  Here  in  the  west, 
only  these  lumpy,  heavy  gneiss  peaks  would  rise  as  tiny  islands 
above  the  w^aters,  while  towards  the  coast  the  plateaus  just 
mentioned  would  so  to  speak  represent  the  continents  of  this 
piece  of  the  earth's  surface. 


THE  MASASI  RANGE 


67 


THE   INSULAR   MOUNTAIN   OF  MASASI 


In  general  these  peaks  are  scattered  irregularly  over  the 
whole  wide  area  of  the  country.  If  I  climb  one  of  the  smaller 
hills  immediately  behind  my  house,  I  can  overlook  an  almost 
illimitable  number  of  these  remarkable  formations  to  north, 
west  and  south.  They  are  mostly  single  or  in  small  clusters, 
but  several  days'  journey  further  west  a  large  number  are 
gathered  into  a  close  cluster  in  the  Majeje  country.  The 
Masasi  range  in  our  immediate  neighbourhood  is  the  other 
exception.  Corresponding  to  their  irregular  distribution  is  a 
great  variety  in  height.  Many  are  only  small  hillocks,  while 
others  rise  to  a  sheer  height  of  1,600  feet  and  over  from  the 
plain,  which  here  at  Masasi  is  fully  1,300  feet  above  sea  level. 
The  highest  of  these  hills  thus  attain  about  the  middle  height 
among  our  German  mountains. 

As  to  the  origin  of  these   strange   mountain  shapes,  not 

being  a  geologist,  I  am  in  no  position  to  form  an  opinion. 

According  to  Bornhardt,  who  in  his  magnificent  work  on  the 

earth-sculpture  and  geology  of    German  East  Africa^  has 

1  ZuY  Oberflachengestaltung  und  Geologic  Deutsch-Ostafrikas ,  Berlin, 
1900. 


68 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


described  the  geological  features  of  this  landscape  with 
admirable  vividness,  all  these  insular  peaks  testify  to 
a  primeval  and  never  interrupted  struggle  between  the 
constructive  activity  of  the  sea  and  the  denuding,  eroding, 
digging  and  levelling  action  of  flowing  water  and  of  atmos- 
pheric influences.  He  sees  this  tract  in  primordial  times  as 
an  immense  unbroken  plain  of  primitive  gneiss.  In  this,  in 
course  of  time,  streams  and  rivers  excavated  their  valleys, 
all  more  or  less  in  the  same  direction.  At  the  end  of  this 
long-continued  process,  long  hill  ridges  w^re  left  standing 
between  the  difterent  valleys.  Then  came  another  epoch, 
when  stratification  took  the  place  of  destruction.  Whereas 
formerly,  rain,  springs,  brooks  and  rivers  carried  the  commin- 
uted and  disintegrated  rock  down  to  the  sea,  now,  the  sea 
itself  overflowed  the  land,  filled  the  valleys,  and  probabty 
covered  the  whole  former  scene  of  action  with  its  sediment. 
This  sediment,  again,  in  the  course  of  further  ages  became 
hardened  into  rock.  Once  more  the  scene  changed ;  again  the 
land  was  left  dry ;  and  wind,  rain  and  running  w^ater  could 
once  more  begin  their  work  of  destruction.  But  this  time  their 
activity  took  a  different  direction.  They  had  formerly  carried 
the  detritus  north  or  south,  but  now  they  swept  it  eastward, 
at  right  angles  to  their  former  course,  and  so  gradually  ground 
and  filed  away  the  w^hole  of  the  later  deposit,  and  also  eroded 
the  long  ridges  which  had  survived  from  the  first  period  of 
destruction.  Finally,  when  even  this  primitive  rock  had  been 
worn  away  down  to  the  bottom  level  of  the  first  valleys,  nothing 
remained  of  the  old  sheet  of  gneiss  except  in  the  angles  formed 
by  the  crossing  of  the  two  lines  of  abrasion  and  erosion.  The 
superincumbent  strata  being  sw^pt  away,  the  hard  gneiss  cores 
of  these  angles  of  ground  form  the  very  insular  peaks  I  have 
been  describing.  Bornhardt's  theory  is  a  bold  one  and  assumes 
quite  immeasurable  periods  of  time,  but  it  has  been  generally 
accepted  as  the  most  plausible  of  all  attempts  to  explain  the 
facts.  In  any  case  it  is  a  brilliant  proof  of  the  capacity  for 
inductive  reasoning  possessed  by  German  scholars. 

These  mighty  masses  of  rock,  springing  with  an  unusually 
steep  slope,  direct  from  the  plain,  dominate  their  surroundings 
wherever  one  comes  across  them,  but  where  they  appear 
in  such  a  wonderfully  regular  series  as  they  do  here — Mkwera, 


FERTILITY 


69 


Masasi,  Mtandi,  Chironji,  Kitututu,  Mkomahindo,  and  the  rest 
of  the  lesser  and  greater  elevations  within  my  horizon, — they 
present  an  incomparable  and  quite  unforgettable  spectacle. 
When  once  the  projected  railway  across  the  Umbekuru  basin 
is  completed,  the  tourist  agencies  will  have  no  more  popular 
excursion  than  that  to  the  Masasi  Range. 

From  a  botanical  point  of  view,  also,  the  visitor  finds  himself 
weU  repaid  for  his  trouble.  Once  in  the  shadow  of  these  hills, 
the  desolation  of  the  pori  is  forgotten  as  if  by  magic  ;  one 
plantation  succeeds  another,  and  patches  of  all  the  different 
varieties  of  millet  bow  their  heavy  cobs  and  plumes  in  the 
fresh  morning  breeze,  which  is  a  real  refreshment  after  the 
stifling  heat  of  the  long  day's  march  through  the  bush.  Beans 
of  all  kinds,  gourds  and  melons,  rejoice  the  eye  with  their 
fresh  green,  on  either  side  of  the  path  the  mhogo  (manioc) 
spreads  its  branches  with  their  pale-green  leaves  and  pink 
stalks.  Wherever  there  is  an  interval  between  these  various 
crops,  the  hazi  pea  rattles  in  its  pod.  This  fertihty  (aston- 
ishing for  the  southern  part  of  German  East  Africa)  is  only 
rendered  possible  by  the  geological  constitution  of  the  soil. 
Wherever  we  have  set  foot  on  the  main  road,  and  north  and 
south  of  the  same,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  the  principal 
constituents  of  the  upper  stratum  have  been  loamy  sand  and 
sandy  loam.  In  places  where  the  action  of  water  has  been 
more  marked,  we  find  an  outcrop  of  bare,  smooth  gneiss  rocks  ; 
or  the  ground  is  covered  with  hard  quartzite,  crunching  under 
foot.  Only  where  these  mighty  gneiss  ranges  break  the 
monotony  does  anyone  examining  the  country  with  an  eye  to 
its  economic  value  find  full  satisfaction.  Gneiss  weathers 
easily  and  forms  excellent  soil,  as  the  natives  have  long  ago 
discovered  ;  and,  though  they  by  no  means  despise  the  less 
fertile  tracts,  yet  the  most  favoured  sites  for  settlements 
have  always  been  those  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the 
gneiss  islr.nds.  Masasi,  with  its  enormous  extent,  taking 
many  hours  to  traverse,  is  the  typical  example  of  such 
economic  insight. 

Since  this  would  naturally  attract  people  from  all  directions, 
it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  a  question  as  to  the  tribal 
affinities  of  the  Masasi  people  should  land  one  in  a  very  chaos 
of  tribes.    Makua,  Wayao,  Wangindo,  a  few  Makonde,  and, 


70  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


in  addition  a  large  percentage  of  Coast  men  : — such  are  the 
voluntary  immigrants  to  this  little  centre  of  social  evolution. 
To  these  we  must  add  a  miscellaneous  collection  of  people 
belonging  to  various  tribes  of  the  far  interior,  who  are  here 
included  under  the  comprehensive  designation  of  Wanyasa. 
These  Wanyasa  are  the  living  testimon^^  to  an  experiment 
devised  in  the  spirit  of  the  highest  philanthropy,  which, 
unfortunately,  has  not  met  with  the  success  hoped  for  and 
expected  by  its  promoters.  This  very  region  was  some  decades 
ago  the  scene  of  an  extremely  active  slave-traffic  ;  the  trade, 
kept  up  by  the  Zanzibar  and  Coast  Arabs,  preferred  the  route 
through  this  easily-traversed  and  at  that  time  thickly-populated 
country.  The  situation  of  Kilwa  Kivinje  on  a  bay  so  shallow 
that  Arab  slave-dhows,  but  not  the  patrolhng  gun-boats  of 
rigidly  moral  Powers,  can  anchor  there,  is  to  this  day  a  speaking 
testimony  to  that  dark  period  in  the  not  excessively  sunny 
history  of  Africa. 

In  order  to  get  at  the  root  of  the  evil,  English  philanthropists 
have  for  many  years  been  in  the  habit  of  causing  the  unhappv 
victims  driven  down  this  road  in  the  slave-stick,  to  be  ran- 
somed by  the  missionaries  and  settled  on  their  stations  as 
free  men.  The  principal  settlement  of  this  kind  is  that  among 
the  gneiss  peaks  of  Masasi.  The  Christian  world  cherished  the 
hope  that  these  liberated  slaves  might  be  trained  into  grateful 
fellow-believers  and  capable  men.  But  when  one  hears  the 
opinion  of  experienced  residents  in  the  country,  it  is  not 
possible  without  a  strong  dose  of  preconceived  opinion  to  see 
in  these  liberated  converts  anything  better  than  their  com- 
patriots. The  fact  remains  and  cannot  by  any  process  of 
reasoning  be  explained  away,  that  Christianity  does  not  suit  the 
native  ;  far  less,  in  any  case  than  Islam,  which  unhesitatingly 
allows  him  all  his  cherished  freedom. 

Personally,  however,  I  must  say  I  have  not  so  far  noticed 
any  discreditable  points  in  the  character  of  the  Masasi  people  ; 
ail  who  have  come  in  contact  with  me  have  treated  me  in  the 
same  friendly  fashion  as  the  rest  of  those  I  have  come  across 
in  this  country.  Such  contact  has  by  no  means  been  wanting 
in  spite  of  the  shortness  of  my  stay  here,  since  I  have  thrown 
myself  into  my  work  with  all  the  energy  of  which  I  am  capable, 
and  am  convinced  that  I  have  already  seen  with  my  own  eyes 


A  PRIESTLY  COBBLER 


71 


and  heard  with  my  own  ears  a  large  and  important  part  of  the 
people's  hfe. 

The,  very  beginning  of  my  studies  was  remarkably  promising. 
The  Mission  station  of  Masasi  lies  a  short  hour's  walk  north 
north-eastward  from  us,  immediately  under  the  precipitous 
side  of  Mtandi  ^Mountain.  This  Mtandi  is  the  most  imposing 
peak  of  the  whole  range  ;  it  rises  in  an  almost  vertical  cliff 
directly  behind  the  straw  huts  of  the  Mission,  ending,  at  a 
height  of  nearly  3,100  feet  in  a  fiat  dome.  District  Commis- 
sioner Ewerbeck  and  I  had  already,  when  riding  past  it  on 
the  day  of  our  arrival,  determined  to  visit  this  mountain ; 
and  we  carried  out  our  project  a  day  or  two  later.  The  trip 
was  not  without  a  certain  fascination.  At  4.30  a.m.  in  a  pitch- 
dark  tropical  night,  we  were  ready  to  march,  the  party  con- 
sisting of  two  Europeans  and  half-a-dozen  carriers  and  boys, 
with  Ewerbeck's  ^Muscat  donkey  and  my  old  mule.  As  quickly 
as  the  darkness  allowed,  the  procession  passed  along  the 
barabara,  turning  off  to  the  left  as  we  approached  Mtandi. 
The  animals  with  their  attendants  were  left  behind  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountain,  while  the  rest  of  us,  making  a  circuit  of 
the  Mission  grounds,  began  our  climbing  practice. 

I  had  equipped  myself  for  my  African  expedition  with  the 
laced  boots  supplied  by  Tippelskirch  expressly  for  the  tropics. 
When  I  showed  these  to  "  old  Africans  "  at  Lindi,  they  simply 
laughed  at  me  and  asked  what  I  expected  to  do  in  this  country 
with  one  wretched  row  of  nails  on  the  edge  of  the  sole.  They 
advised  me  to  send  the  things  at  once  to  Brother  William  at 
the  Benedictine  Mission,  who  earns  the  gratitude  of  all 
Europeans  by  executing  repairs  on  shoes  and  boots.  Brother 
Wilham,  in  fact,  very  kindly  armed  my  boots  with  a  double 
row  of  heavy  Alpine  hobnails,  and  I  wore  a  pair  the  first  day 
out  from  Lindi,  but  never  again  on  the  march.  They  weighed 
down  my  feet  like  lead,  and  it  soon  appeared  that  the  heavy 
nails  were  absolutely  unnecessary  on  the  fine  sand  of  the 
barabara.  After  that  first  day,  I  wore  my  light  laced  shoes 
from  Leipzig,  which  make  walking  a  pleasure.  Here,  on  the 
other  hand,  on  the  sharp  ridges  of  Mtandi,  the  despised 
mountain  boots  rendered  me  excellent  service. 

I  prefer  to  omit  the  description  of  my  feelings  during  this 
ascent.    It  grew  lighter,  and  we  went  steadily  upwards,  but 


72 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


this  climbing,  in  single 


OUR  ASCENT  OF  MTAXDI 
MOUNTAIN.      DRAWN  BY  JUMA 


file,  from  rock  to  rock  and  from 
tree  to  tree  was,  at  any  rate  for  us 
two  well-nourished  and  comfortable 
Europeans,  by  no  means  a  pleasure. 
In  fact,  we  relinquished  the  ambition 
of  reaching  the  highest  peak  and 
contented  ourselves  with  a  some- 
what lower  projection.  This  was 
sensible  of  us,  for  there  was  no  ques- 
tion of  the  magnificent  view  we  had 
expected ;  the  heights  and  the  distant 
landscape  were  alike  veiled  in  thick 
mist,  so  that  even  the  longest  ex- 
posure produced  no  effect  to  speak 
of  on  my  photographic  plates. 

This  ascent,  though  barren  of 
results  in  other  respects,  has  pro- 
duced one  small  monument  of  African 
art,  a  drawing  of  our  climbing 
caravan,  which  is  here  offered  to  the 
reader's  inspection.  The  native 
artist  has  quite  correctly  indicated 
the  steepness  of  the  mountain  by 
the  vertical  line  representing  the 
road.  The  confusion  of  circles  and 
curves  at  the  lower  end  stands  for 
the  buildings  of  the  Mission  station : 
— the  foundations  of  a  church  vast 
enough,  should  it  ever  be  finished,  to 
hold  all  the  converted  heathen  of 
Africa  and  the  adjacent  continents; 
the  ci  devant  cowhouse,  in  which 
the  two  aged  clergymen  have  found 
a  primitive  refuge  after  the  destruc- 
tion of  their  beautiful  buildings 
by  the  Majimaji,  the  boys'  school 
and  the  girls'  school — two  large 
bamboo  huts  in  the  native  style  ; 
and  the  dwellings  of  the  native 
teachers  and  boarders.    The  curly 


TWO  STARS 


73 


labyrinth  at  the  upper  end  of  the  Hne  is  the  top  of  the 
mountain  with  its  gneiss  blocks.  The  two  uppermost 
climbers  are  the  kirongozi  or  guide  and  one  of  our  men,  the 
third  is  Captain  Ewerbeck,  and  the  fourth  myself.  The 
District  Commissioner  is  readily  recognizable  by  the  epaulettes 
with  the  two  stars  denoting  his  military  rank,  which 
belong  to  the  uniform  worn  on  duty  by  this  class  of  officials. 
Of  all  attributes  of  the  white  man  this  seems  to  make  the 
greatest  impression  on  the  native  mind,  since,  in  every 
drawing  in  my  possession  where  officers  are  represented,  their 
rank  is  invariably  (and  ahvays  correctly)  indicated  by  the 
number  of  stars.  In  the  same  wa}^  the  native  draughtsman 
never  makes  a  mistake  with  regard  to  the  stripes  on  the  sleeves 
of  non-commissioned  officers,  black  or  w^hite.  The  advantages 
of  a  well-developed  corporation  are  here  evident  !  Ewerbeck 
and  Seyfried  are  about  the  same  age  as  myself,  and  our  chest 
and  other  measurements  are  pretty  nearly  identical.  This  I 
suppose  must  be  the  reason  why  the  inhabitants  of  Lindi,  and 
later  on  those  of  the  interior,  have  promoted  me  to  the  rank 
of  captain  ;  at  Lindi  I  went  by  the  name  of  Hoffmani  nipyUy 
"  the  new  captain  "  (Hauptmann).  The  drawing  here  repro- 
duced is  evidence  of  my  promotion,  the  artist  having  bestow^ed 
the  epaulettes  on  me  as  well  as  on  Ewerbeck.  The  figures 
behind  us  are  of  no  importance,  they  are  only  the  rest  of  our 
party.  Now,  however,  comes  the  psychologically  noteworthy 
point  ;  I  figure  in  the  picture  twice  over,  first  laboriously 
climbing  the  mountain,  and  then  in  majestic  pose  at  the 
top,  in  the  act  of  photographing  the  African  landscape.  You 
must  know  that  the  tripod  shown  in  the  drawing  is  that  of  my 
13X  18  cm.  camera,  the  zig-zags  between  its  legs  are  the  brass 
struts  which  keep  it  rigid  ;  the  long  snake-hke  hne  is  the  rubber 
tube  for  the  release  of  the  instantaneous  shutter — of  which,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  I  could  make  no  use  on  account  of  the  mist, — 
and  the  photographer  is,  as  above  stated,  myself.  The  men 
behind  me  are  my  personal  attendants  to  whom  the  more 
fragile  parts  of  the  apparatus  are  usually  entrusted.  The 
graphic  reproduction  of  this  ascent  is  no  great  achievement 
on  the  part  of  the  native  intellect,  but  nevertheless  it  is  a 
very  important  document  for  the  beginnings  of  art  in  general 
and  for  the  African  point  of  view  in  particular.    To  the 


74 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


ethnographer,  of  all  men,  the  most  apparently  insignificant 
matters  are  not  without  importance,  and  this  is  why  the 
prospect  of  working  undisturbed  for  many  months  in  these 
surroundings  is  such  a  delight  to  me. 

Our  ascent  of  Mtandi  was  concluded,  at  any  rate  for  the 
present,  b}^  a  ceremonious  breakfast,  to  which  the  two  mis- 
sionaries had  kindly  invited  us.  Englishmen,  as  is  well  known, 
live  extremely  well  in  their  own  country  ;  but  abroad,  too, 
even  in  the  far  interior  of  a  continent,  they  know  how  to 
make  the  best  of  things.  I  was  here  impressed  with  the 
fact  that  Masasi  must  be  a  "  very  nourishing  district,"  as 
Wilhelm  Raabe  would  say.  We  had  no  champagne,  it  is 
true — Archdeacon  Carnon  had  set  it  before  us  on  the  previous 
day,  in  a  huge  water-jug,  apologizing  for  the  absence  of  cham- 
pagne glasses.  We  showed  him  that  we  were  able  to  appreciate 
his  hospitality,  even  in  the  absence  of  such  refinements. 

The  merriest  part  of  our  whole  Mtandi  expedition,  however, 
was  the  ride  home,  with  the  Mission  pupils  trotting  along 
beside  us.  The  little  fellows  looked  warlike  enough  wdth  their 
bows  and  arrows,  and  seemed  desirous  of  shouting  each  other 
down.  I  could  not  at  first  make  out  what  they  wanted,  but  on 
reaching  home,  that  is  to  say,  our  police-post,  I  soon  understood 
that  their  object  was  nothing  less  than  to  offer  me  the  whole  of  . 
their  martial  equipment  for  my  ethnographic  collection.  But 
not  as  a  present — giving  things  away  for  nothing  is  not  in  the 
negro's  line,  and  in  this  he  resembles  our  German  rustics. 
On  the  contrary,  these  young  people  demanded  fancy  prices 
for  the  bows  which  they  had  made  on  purpose  to  sell  them  to 
the  mzungu,  that  remarkable  character  who  buys  all  sorts 
of  native  rubbish.  I  purchased  such  of  their  wares  as  seemed 
suitable  for  my  objects,  and  thought  it  advisable  to  prevent 
disappointment  to  those  whose  offers  had  been  refused  by 
giving  each  a  copper  or  two  out  of  the  famous  jar  of  which 
we  shall  hear  again  later  on.  Before  doing  so,  however,  I 
instituted  a  pleasing  experiment,  instructive  for  myself  and 
highly  enjoyable  for  the  youth  of  Masasi,  in  the  shape  of  an 
archery  competition. 

Comparative  ethnography  has  for  a  long  time  past  busied 
itself  with  the  task  of  classifying  and  analyzing  all  the  tech- 
nical and  mental  activities  of  man.    Thus  some  decades  ago. 


HANDLING  THE  BOW 


75 


the  American,  Morse,  ^  ascertained  that  all  men  who  shoot, 
or  ever  have  shot,  with  the  bow,  have  certain  definite  ways 
of  drawing  it.  There  are  about  half-a-dozen  distinct  methods, 
which  are  so  distributed  over  the  globe  that,  in  some  places 
the  same  release  (or  "  loose  "  as  it  is  technically  called)  is 
known  to  be  common  to  the  whole  of  a  large  area,  while  else- 
where the  most  abrupt  contrasts  may  be  observed  between 
contiguous  nations  or  tribes.  It  might  be  supposed  that  there 
could  be  no  possible  differences  in  so  simple  an  action  as  that 
of  drawing  a  bow  ;  but  experiment  shows  otherwise,  and  this 
experiment  I  have  made  over  and  over  again  in  the  course  of 
my  lectures. 

It  is  a  thousand  to  one  that  any  German  (leaving  out  of 
consideration  the  English  and  the  Belgians,  who  still  practise 
archery  according  to  the  rules  of  the  game,  and  can  distinguish 
a  good  "  loose  "  from  a  bad  one),  when  he  has  taken  the  bow  in 
his  left  hand  and  grasped  the  arrow  and  the  string  in  his  right, 
will  hold  the  notch  as  it  rests  on  the  string  between  his  thumb 
and  fore-finger,  and  thus  only  indirectly  draw  the  string  by 
means  of  the  arrow.  This,  which  is  the  "  loose  "  we  used 
on  the  little  toy  bows  of  our  boyhood,  is  the  very  worst  con- 
ceivable, as  anyone  w^ho  understands  the  other  methods  can 
convince  himself  by  every  shot  he  tries.  It  is  obvious  that  the 
arrow  must  slip  from  the  fingers  if  a  moderately  strong  pull  is 
given.  The  best  proof  of  the  inferiority  of  this  particular 
"  loose  "  is  the  fact  that  it  is  very  seldom  found  among  those 
sections  of  mankind  who  still  use  the  bow  as  a  serious  and 
effective  weapon,  whether  in  war  or  hunting.  These  handle 
it  after  a  very  different  fashion.  Only  where  the  bow  is  a 
mere  survival,  and  only  used  as  a  toy  by  children  (the  most 
conservative  class  in  the  community),  as  for  instance  among 
ourselves,  this  method,  quite  useless  for  an  effective  shot,  is 
practised  simply  because  no  better  is  known. 

If  I  felt  compelled  to  take  the  boys  at  Masasi  Mission  as  a 
standard  for  estimating  the  culture  of  the  race,  I  should  have 
to  say  that  here  too  the  bow  is  a  survival,  for  nine-tenths  of 
the  whole  multitude  shot  in  the  same  way  as  our  boys  at  home, 
but  with  one  difference  ;  we  hold  the  bow  horizontally,  the 
African  boys  held  it  vertically,  the  arrow  lying  on  the  left 

1  Ancient  and  Modern  Methods  of  Arrow  Release. 


76 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


side  of  the  string  between  the  index  and  middle  finger.  Only 
one-tenth  of  the  whole  number  used  a  different  "  loose,"  and 
these,  significantly  enough,  were  older  boys,  who  therefore 
had  evidently  taken  over  with  them  into  their  Christianity 
a  considerable  dose  of  old  African  conservatism. 

My  competition  was  arranged  with  a  view,  not  so  much  of 
registering  the  number  of  hits  and  misses,  as  of  observing 
the  method  of  drawing  ;  but,  notwithstanding,  I  must  say 
that  the  little  archers  acquitted  themselves  by  no  means 
contemptibly.  It  is  true  that  the  distances  were  short,  and 
my  mark  was  scarcely  a  small  one,  being  a  copy  of  the  Tdgliche 
Rundschau  ;  but  the  greater  number  sent  their  arrows  inside 
the  rings  I  had  hastily  drawn  on  this  improvised  target.  They 
were  proud  of  their  success,  too  ;  and  when  I  praised  a  good 
shot  it  was  good  to  see  the  triumphant  looks  that  the  little  black 
hero  cast  round  on  his  admiring  companions. 

As  to  the  other  methods,  if  I  were  asked  the  question  in  my 
Leipzig  lecture-room,  I  should  have  to  answer  it  at  once.  As 
it  is,  I  am  enabled  to  claim  the  privilege  of  the  investigator 
and  excuse  myself  from  giving  further  information  till  I  have 
collected  sufficient  material  by  a  series  of  fresh  observations. 
I  hope  to  gratify  my  readers'  thirst  for  knowledge  w^hen  I  have 
traversed  the  whole  plain  north  of  the  Rovuma,  and,  encamped 
on  the  cool  heights  of  the  Makonde  plateau,  find  leisure  to 
look  back  and  take  stock  of  my  studies.  Till  then — Au  revoir^ 
Messieurs  ! 


MNYASA   HUXTER   WITH   DOG.      DRAWN    BY  SALIM  MATCLA 


CHAPTER  VI 

NATIVE  LIFE  SEEN  FROM  THE  INSIDE 

Masasi,  end  of  July,  1906. 

Every  normal  human  being  is  a  walking  demonstration  of 
the  theory  of  adaptation  to  environment.  I  have  been  in 
Africa  barely  two  months,  and  only  as  yet  a  fraction  of  a 
month  in  the  interior,  and  yet  I  feel  quite  at  home  already. 
After  all,  I  could  scarcely  do  otherwise.  On  the  21st,  when 
we  had  only  lived  together  a  few  days,  Mr.  Ewerbeck  marched 
away  before  daybreak,  by  the  light  of  a  lantern  borne  before 
him  through  the  darkness  of  the  tropic  night,  to  attend  to 
higher  duties  at  Lindi,  viz.,  the  reception  of  the  eight  delegates 
from  the  Reichstag,  now  fairly  embarked  on  that  desperate 
adventure  which  for  many  months  past  has  kept  our  daily 
press  busy  celebrating  their  heroism. 

Nils  Kn'udsen  remains  behind  as  the  last  relic  of  civilization. 
His  name  alone  is  sufficient  to  indicate  his  Scandinavian  origin, 
and  he  is,  in  fact,  a  fair-haired  descendant  of  the  Vikings.  He 
joined  the  expedition  so  unobtrusively  that  at  first  I  scarcely 
noticed  the  presence  of  a  third  European.  While  Ewerbeck 
and  I  marched  proudly  at  the  head  of  our  long  line  of  followers, 
Knudsen  usually  brought  up  the  rear,  and  in  camp  he  remained 
modestly  in  the  background.  Now  that  we  have  fixed  our 
headquarters  at  Masasi,  he  has  become  prominent  by  virtue  of 
his  office  ;  he  is  supposed  to  keep  things  straight  here  and 
exercise  some  supervision  over  the  native  local  authorities. 
Whether  this  is  necessary,  I  am  at  present  unable  to  judge, 
having  as  yet  no  insight  into  the  difficulties  of  internal 

77 


78 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


administration  in  a  large  district  like  Lindi.  However,  a  man 
who  knows  the  country  as  well  as  Ewerbeck  does,  would  hardly 
have  taken  such  a  measure  without  good  reason.  In  the 
meantime  I  have  persuaded  Knudsen  to  quit  his  tent — which, 
to  judge  by  its  venerable  appearance,  must  have  been  left 
behind  as  too  far  gone  to  take  away,  by  Vasco  Da  Gama  when 
he  landed  in  this  part  of  Africa — and  come  to  live  with  me  in 
the  rest-house.  Now  he  is  installed,  with  his  scanty  possessions 
— two  old  tin  trunks,  which  do  not  even  appear  to  be  full — on 
one  side  of  the  spacious  apartment,  while  I  with  my  princely 
outfit  reside  on  the  other.  He  is,  however,  abundantly  compen- 
sated for  the  niggardliness  with  which  fortune  has  treated  him 
by  goodness  of  heart  and  fineness  of  feeling.  Knudsen's  life  has 
been  adventurous  enough,  and  recalls  to  some  extent  the  fate 
of  that  English  sailor  who  was  wrecked  among  the  aborigines 
of  South-East  Australia,  and  had  to  live  as  a  savage  among 
savages.  My  fair-haired  neighbour  did  not  fare  quite  so  badly 
as  that  ;  but  he  has  had  plenty  of  time  to  "go  Fanti  "  had  he 
been  so  disposed.  So  far  as  I  have  yet  ascertained  anything 
about  his  personal  affairs,  he  started  life  as  cabin-boy  on  board 
a  merchant  vessel,  from  which  he  ran  away  about  ten  years  ago, 
when  it  was  anchored  in  a  harbour  of  Madagascar.  He 
wandered  about  this  island  for  some  years,  and  at  last  found 
his  way  across  to  the  mainland  and  into  the  hinterland  of  Lindi. 
He  says  that  he  never  learnt  a  trade,  but  professes  to  know 
something  of  a  great  many,  and  can  act  on  occasion  as  mason, 
builder,  carpenter,  and  locksmith.  Indeed  he  erected  all  the 
buildings  at  the  Luisenfelde  mines,  far  south  near  the  Rovuma, 
which  I  may  yet  be  able  to  visit,  and  was  general  factotum 
there  as  long  as  they  continued  working.  Since  then  the 
municipality  of  Lindi  has  appointed  him  head  instructor  at 
the  industrial  school,  from  which  post  he  is  at  present  on  leave 
of  absence. 

Our  manner  of  life  here  is,  of  course,  essentially  different 
from  that  followed  on  the  march.  Life  on  the  march  is  always 
full  of  charm,  more  especially  in  a  country  quite  new  to  one  ; 
and  mine  has  so  far  been  entirely  without  drawbacks.  In 
African  travel-books  we  find  that  almost  every  expedition  begins 
with  a  thousand  difficulties.  The  start  is  fixed  for  a  certain  hour, 
but  no  carriers  appear,  and  when  at  last  the  leader  of  the 


EARLY  RISING 


79 


expedition  has,  with  infinite  pains,  got  his  men  together,  they 
have  still  endless  affairs  to  settle,  wives  and  sweethearts  to  take 
leave  of,  and  what  not,  and  have  usually  vanished  from  the 
traveller's  ken  on  the  very  first  evening.  In  my  case 
everything  went  like  clockwork  from  the  start.  I  can 
blame  no  one  but  myself  for  the  quarter  of  an  hour's  delay 


THROUGH   THE   BUSH   OX    A  COLLECTING  EXCURSION 

in  starting  from  Lindi,  which  was  caused  by  my  being  late  for 
breakfast.  On  the  second  morning  the  askari  could  not  quite 
get  on  with  the  folding  of  the  tent,  and  Moritz  with  the  best  will 
in  the  world  failed  to  get  my  travelling-lamp  into  its  case, 
which  was  certainly  a  very  tight  fit.  But  with  these  exceptions 
we  have  all  behaved  as  if  we  had  been  on  the  road  for  months. 
Anyone  who  wants  a  substantial  breakfast  first  thing  in  the 
morning,  after  the  Enghsh  fashion,  should  not  go  travelling  in 
Africa.  I  have  given  directions  to  wake  me  at  five.  Punctu- 
ally to  the  minute,  the  sentinel  caUs  softly  into  the  tent, 
Amka,  hwana''  ("Wake  up,  sir").  I  throw  both  feet  over 
the  high  edge  of  the  trough-like  camp  bed,  and  jump  into  my 
khaki  suit.  The  water  which  Kibwana,  in  the  performance 
of  his  duties  as  housemaid,  has  thoughtfully  placed  at  the  tent 


80 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


door  overnight,  has  acquired  a  refreshing  coohiess  in  the  low 
temperature  of  a  tropic  night  in  the  dry  season.  The  shadow 
of  the  European  at  his  toilet  is  sharply  outlined  on  the  canvas 
the  burning  lamp,  which,  however,  does  not  confine  its 
illumination  to  its  owner,  but  radiates  a  circle  of  light  on  the 
shining  brown  faces  of  the  carriers  and  the  askari.  The  former 
are  busy  tying  up  their  loads  for  the  march,  while  the  soldiers 
are  ready  to  rush  on  the  tent  like  a  tiger  on  his  prey,  so  soon  as 
the  white  man  shall  have  finished  dressing  and  come  out.  In 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye  the  tent  is  folded,  without  a  word 
spoken,  or  a  superfluous  movement  ;  it  is  division  of  labour  in 
the  best  sense  of  the  word,  faultlessly  carried  out.  Meanwhile 
the  traveller  goes  to  his  camp-table,  takes  a  hurried  sip  of  tea, 
cocoa,  or  whatever  his  favourite  beverage  may  be,  eating  at  the 
same  time  a  piece  of  bread  baked  by  himself,  and  now  stands 
ready  for  the  march.  ''Tayari?''  ("Ready?")  his  voice 
rings  out  over  the  camp.  Bado  "  ("Not  yet  ")  is  the  in- 
variable answer.  It  is  always  the  same  lazy  or  awkward 
members  of  the  party  who  utter  this  w^ord  beloved  of  the 
African  servant.  The  beginner  lets  himself  be  misled  by  it 
at  first,  but  in  a  few  days  he  takes  no  more  notice  of  the 
"  Bado;'  but  fires  off  his  "  Safari  !  "  (literally  "  Journey  !  ") 
or  (as  speedily  introduced  by  me),  ''Los!''^  at  the  band  in 
general,  flourishes  his  walking-stick  boldly  in  the  air,  thereby 
indicating  to  the  two  leading  askari  the  direction  of  the  march, 
and  the  day's  work  has  begun. 

I  do  not  know  how  other  tribes  are  accustomed  to  behave 
at  the  moment  of  starting,  but  my  Wanyamwezi  are  certainly 
neither  to  hold  nor  to  bind  on  these  occasions.  With  evident 
difiiculty  each  one  has  got  his  load  lifted  to  head  or  shoulder, 
and  stands  in  his  place  bending  under  the  weight.  At  the 
word  of  command  arises  an  uproar  which  baffles  description. 
All  the  pent-up  energy  of  their  throats  rings  out  into  the  silent 
forest  ;  stout  sticks  rattle  in  a  wild,  irregular  rhythm  on  the 
wooden  cases,  and,  alas  !  also  on  the  tin  boxes,  which  furnish 
only  too  good  a  resonator.  The  noise  is  infernal,  but  it  is  a 
manifestation  of  joy  and  pleasure.  We  are  off  !  and,  once 
on  the  march,  the  Wanyamwezi  are  in  their  element.  Before 
long  the  chaos  of  noise  is  reduced   to   some   order  ;  these 

^  "  Off  you  go  !  " 


MORNING  IN  THE  TROPICS 


81 


men  have  an  infinitely  delicate  sense  of  liiythm,  and  so  the 
din  gradually  resolves  itself  into  a  kind  of  march  sung  to  a  drum 
accompaniment,  whose  charm  even  the  legs  of  the  askari — 
otherwise  too  dignified  for  such  childish  goings-on — cannot 
resist. 

Oh  !  the  beauty  of  these  early  mornings  in  the  tropics  !  It 
is  now  getting  on  for  six  o'clock  ;  the  darkness  of  night  has 
quicklv  yielded  to  the  short  twilight  of  dawn  ;  the  first  bright 


READY   FOR   MARCHING  (MASASI) 

rays  gild  the  light  clouds  floating  in  the  sky,  and  suddenly  the 
disc  of  the  sun  rises  in  its  wonderful  majesty  above  the  horizon. 
With  swift,  vigorous  strides,  and  still  in  close  order,  the  pro- 
cession hastens  through  the  dew-drenched  bush,  two  soldiers 
in  the  van,  as  if  in  a  military  expedition  ;  then,  after  an 
interval  we  Europeans,  immediately  followed  by  our  personal 
servants  with  guns,  travelling-flask  and  camp-stool.  Then 
comes  the  main  body  of  the  soldiers  followed  by  the  long  line  of 
carriers  and  the  soldiers'  boys,  and,  lastly,  to  keep  the  laggards 
up  to  the  mark,  and  also  to  help  any  who  have  to  fall  out 
from  exhaustion  or  illness,  two  soldiers  bringing  up  the 
rear.  An  admirable  figure  is  the  mnyampara  or  headman. 
His  position  is  in  a  sense  purely  honorary,  for  he  receives  not 
a  farthing  more  wages  than  the  lowest  of  his  subordinates. 
.Perhaps  even  this  expression  should  not  be  used  ;  he  is  rather 
primus  inter  pares.    The  mnyampara  is  everywhere.    He  is 

6  (2131) 


82 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


in  front  when  the  master  sends  for  him,  and  he  is  back  at  the 
very  end  of  the  line  (which  becomes  longer  with  every  hour  of 
the  march)  if  there  is  a  sick  man  needing  his  help.  In  such 
a  case  he  carries  the  man's  load  himself,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
and  brings  him  safely  to  camp.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  have 
made  an  unusually  happy  choice  in  Pesa  mbili.  He  is  young, 
like  the  great  majority  of  my  men,  probably  between  23  and  25, 
of  a  deep  black  complexion,  with  markedly  negroid  features, 
and  a  kind  of  feline  glitter  in  his  eyes  ;  he  is  only  of  medium 
height,  but  uncommonly  strong  and  muscular  ;  he  speaks 
shocking  Swahili — far  worse  than  my  own — and  withal 
he  is  a  treasure.  It  is  not  merely  that  he  is  an  incomparable 
singer,  whose  pleasant  baritone  voice  never  rests  whether  on  the 
march  or  in  camp,  but  he  thoroughly  understands  the  organiz- 
ation of  camp  life,  the  distribution  of  tasks  and  the  direction 
of  his  men.  The  demands  made  on  such  a  man  by  the  end 
of  the  da3^'s  march  are  arduous  enough. 

The  delicious  coolness  of  the  morning  has  long  since  given 
place  to  a  perceptibly  high  temperature  ;  the  white  man  has 
•exchanged  his  light  felt  hat  or  still  lighter  travelling-cap  for  the 
heavy  tropical  helmet,  and  the  naked  bodies  of  the  carriers  are 
coated  with  a  shining  polish.  These,  who  have  been  longing  for 
the  day  to  get  warm  ever  since  they  awoke  shivering  round  the 
camp  fire  at  four,  have  now  reached  the  goal  of  their  desires  ; 
they  are  warm— very  warm — and  the  white  man  will  do  well  to 
march  at  the  head  of  the  caravan,  otherwise  he  will  find  oppor- 
tunities more  numerous  than  agreeable  for  studying  the  subject 
of  "  racial  odours."  After  two  hours,  or  two  hours  and  a  half, 
comes  the  first  halt.  The  European  shouts  for  his  camp-stool 
and  sits  watching  the  long  string  of  loads  coming  up  and  being 
lowered  to  the  ground.  A  frugal  breakfast  of  a  couple  of  eggs,  a 
piece  of  cold  meat,  or  a  few  bananas,  here  awaits  the  traveller, 
but  the  cai-riers,  who  started  without  a  meal,  steadily  fast  on.  It 
seems  incomprehensible  that  these  men  should  be  able  to  march 
for  many  hours  with  a  load  of  sixty  or  seventy  pounds,  while 
practising  such  abstinence,  but  they  are  quite  content  to  have 
it  so.  In  the  later  hours  of  the  day,  it  is  true,  they  begin  to 
flag,  their  steps  become  slower  and  shorter,  and  they  lag  more 
and  more  behind  the  personal  "  boys  "  who  have  no  heavy 
loads  to  carry.    Yet  when  they  reach  camp  at  last,  they  are* 


ENCAMPING 


83 


as  merry  and  cheerful  as  they  were  in  the  early  morning.  The 
same  noise — though  now  with  quite  different  words  from  the 
throats  of  the  singers — overwhelms  the  European,  who  has  long 
been  seated  at  the  halting-place.  My  company  seem  to  be 
obsessed  by  the  "  Central-Magazin  "  at  Dar  es  Salam,  where 
they  entered  my  service  ;  they  are  celebrating  this  spacious 
building  in  the  closing  song  of  their  day's  march. 


CAMP   AT  MASASI 


The  duties  of  my  followers— whether  boys,  askari,  or  porters 
— are  by  no  means  over  when  they  have  reached  camp.  By 
the  time  they  come  up,  the  leader  of  the  expedition  has  looked 
round  for  a  place  to  pitch  his  tent,  a  matter  which  seems  to 
me  to  require  special  gifts.  The  fundamental  principles  to  bear 
in  mind  are  :  that  it  should  be  within  reach  of  good  drinking 
water  and  free  from  noxious  insects,  such  as  ticks,  mosquitoes, 
and  jiggers.  Tlie  second  point,  but  one  by  no  means  to  be 
overlooked,  is  the  position  of  the  tent-pole  with  regard  to  the 
course  of  the  sun,  and  the  next  the  shade  of  leafy  trees,  if  that 
is  attainable.  I  find  it  simplest  to  draw  the  outline  of  the  tent 
on  the  sandy  ground,  after  the  spot  has  been  carefully  swept, 
indicating  the  place  where  I  want  the  door  to  be  by  a  break 
in  the  line.  That  is  quite  enough  for  my  corporal  in  command. 
Scarcely  have  the  two  unfortunates,  whose  shoulders  are 
weighed  down  by  my  heavy  tent,  come  up  panting  and  gasping 


84 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


for  breatli,  when  the  loads  are  imrohed,  and  in  a  twinkhng  every 
warrior  has  taken  up  his  position.  "  One,  two,  three  !  "  and 
the  two  poles  are  in  their  places,  and  the  next  moment  I  hear 
the  blows  of  the  mallet  on  the  tent-pegs.  While  this  is  going 
on,  the  two  boys,  Moritz  and  Kibwana,  are  amusing  themselves 
with  my  bed.  This  occupation  seems  to  represent  for  them  the 
height  of  enjoyment,  for  it  seems  as  if  they  would  never  be 
done.  Neither  scolding  nor  threats  can  avail  to  hasten  their 
movements.  It  seems  as  if  their  usually  slow^  brains  had 
become  absolutely  torpid.  Mechanically  they  set  up  the  bed- 
stead ;  mechanically  they  spread  the  cork  mattress  and  the 
blankets  over  it ;  in  the  same  dull,  apathetic  way  they  finally 
set  up  the  framework  of  the  mosquito-net.  The  soldiers  have 
taken  their  departure  long  before  my  two  gentlemen  condescend 
to  carry  the  bed  into  the  tent. 

My  carriers  meanwhile  have  found  all  sorts  of  work  to  do. 
Water  has  to  be  fetched  for  the  whole  caravan,  and  fires  to 
be  made,  and  the  sanitary  requirements  of  the  camp  provided 
for  ;  and  noon  is  long  past  by  the  time  their  turn  comes 
and  they  can  live  their  own  life  for  an  hour  or  two.  Even  now 
they  cannot  be  said  to  revel  in  luxury.  This  southern  part  of 
the  German  territory  is  very  poor  in  game,  and  in  any  case  I 
have  no  time  for  shooting,  so  that  meat  is  almost  an  unknown 
item  in  my  people's  menu.  Ugali,  always  ugali — stiff  porridge 
of  millet,  maize  or  manioc,  boiled  till  it  has  almost  a  vitreous 
consistency,  and  then  shaped  with  the  spoon  used  for  stirring 
into  a  kind  of  pudding — forms  the  staple  of  their  meals  day 
after  day. 

Here  at  Masasi  the  tables  are  turned  ;  my  men  have  a  good 
time,  while  I  can  scarcely  get  a  minute  to  myself.  ^ly  escort 
are  quite  magnificently  housed,  they  have  moved  into  the 
baraza  or  council-house  to  the  left  of  my  palatial  quarters  and 
fitted  it  up  in  the  native  way.  The  negro  has  no  love  for  a 
common  apartment  ;  he  likes  to  make  a  little  nest  apart  for 
himself.  This  is  quickly  done  :  two  or  three  horizontal  poles 
are  placed  as  a  scaffolding  all  round  the  projected  cabin,  then 
a  thick  layer  of  long  African  grass  is  tied  to  them,  and  a  cos\^ 
place,  cool  by  day  and  warm  by  night,  is  ready  for  each  one. 
The  carriers,  on  the  other  hand,  have  built  themselves  huts 
in  the  open  space  facing  my  abode,  quite  simple  and  neat,  but,, 


86  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


to  my  astonishment,  quite  in  the  Masai  style — neither  circular 
hut  nor  tcmhc.  The  circular  hut  I  shall  discuss  in  full  later 
on,  but  in  case  anyone  should  not  know  what  a  temhe  is  like, 
I  will  here  say  that  the  best  notion  of  it  can  be  got  by  placing 
three  or  four  railway  carriages  at  right  angles  to  one  another, 
so  that  they  form  a  square  or  parallelogram,  with  the 
doors  inward.  This  temhe  is  found  throughout  most  of  the 
northern  and  central  part  of  German  East  Africa,  from 
Unyamwezi  in  the  west  to  the  coast  on  the  east,  and  from  the 
Eyasi  and  Manyara  basin  in  the  north  to  Uhehe  in  the  south. 
The  Masai  hut,  finally,  can  best  be  compared  with  a  round- 
topped  trunk.  Though  the  Masai,  as  everyone  knows,  usually 
stand  well  over  six  feet,  their  huts,  which  (quite  conformably 
with  the  owners'  mode  of  life  as  cattle-breeders  par  excellence) 
are  neatly  and  fragrantly  plastered  with  cowdung,  are  so 
low  that  even  a  person  of  normal  stature  cannot  stand  upright 
in  them.  My  Wanyamwezi,  however,  never  attempt  to  stand 
up  in  their  huts  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  lie  about  lazily  all  day 
long  on  their  heaps  of  straw. 

My  activities  are  all  the  more  strenuous.  The  tropical  day 
is  short,  being  only  twelve  hours  from  year's  end  to  year's 
end,  so  that  one  has  to  make  the  fullest  possible  use  of  it.  At 
sunrise,  which  of  course  is  at  six,  everyone  is  on  foot,  breakfast 
is  quickly  dispatched,  and  then  the  day's  work  begins.  This 
beginning  is  curious  enough.  Everyone  who  has  commanded 
an  African  expedition  must  have  experienced  the  persistence 
of  the  natives  in  crediting  him  with  medical  skill  and  knowledge, 
and  every  morning  I  find  a  long  row  of  patients  waiting  for  me. 
Some  of  them  are  my  own  men,  others  inhabitants  of  Masasi 
and  its  neighbourhood.  One  of  my  carriers  has  had  a  bad 
time.  The  carrier's  load  is,  in  East  Africa,  usually  packed  in 
the  American  petroleum  case.  This  is  a  hght  but  strong 
wooden  box  measuring  about  twenty-four  inches  in  length  by 
twelve  in  width  and  sixteen  in  height,  and  originally  intended  to 
hold  two  tins  of  "  kerosene."  The  tins  have  usually  been 
divorced  from  the  case,  in  order  to  continue  a  useful  and 
respected  existence  as  utensils  of  all  work  in  every  Swahili 
household  ;  while  the  case  without  the  tins  is  used  as  above 
stated.  One  only  of  my  cases  remained  true  to  its  original 
destination,  and  travelled  with  its  full  complement  of  oil  on  the 


MEDICAL  AID 


87 


shoulders  of  the  Mnyamwezi  Kazi  Ulaya.  ^  The  honest  fellow 
strides  ahead  sturdily.  "  It  is  hot,"  he  thinks.  "  I  am  beginning 
to  perspire.  Well,  that  is  no  harm  ;  the  others  are  doing  the 
same.  ...  It  is  really  very  hot  !  "  he  ejaculates  after  a  while  ; 
"  even  my  mafuta  ya  Ulaya,  my  European  oil,  is  beginning 
to  smell."  The  smell  becomes  stronger  and  the  carrier  wetter 
as  the  day  draws  on,  and  when,  at  the  end  of  the  march,  he 
sets  down  his  fragrant  load,  it  is  with  a  double  feeling  of  relief, 
for  the  load  itself  has  become  inexplicably  lighter  during  the 
last  six  hours.  At  last  the  truth  da\\TLs  on  him  and  his  friends, 
and  it  is  a  matter  for  thankfulness  that  none  of  them  possess  any 
matches,  for  had  one  been  struck  close  to  Kazi  Ulaya,  the  whole 
man  would  have  burst  into  a  blaze,  so  soaked  was  he  with 
Mr.  Rockefeller's  stock-in-trade. 

Whether  it  is  to  be  accounted  for  by  a  strong  sense  of  disci- 
pline or  by  an  almost  incredible  apathy,  the  fact  remains  that 
this  man  did  not  report  himself  on  the  first  day  when  he 
discovered  that  the  tins  were  leaking,  but  calmly  took  up  his 
burden  next  morning  and  carried  it  without  a  murmur  to  the 
next  stopping  place.  Though  once  more  actually  swimming  in 
kerosene,  Kazi  Ulaya's  peace  of  mind  would  not  even  now 
have  been  disturbed  but  for  the  fact  that  symptoms  of  eczema 
had  appeared,  which  made  him  somewhat  uneasy.  He  there- 
fore presented  himself  with  the  words  a  native  always  uses 
when  something  is  wrong  with  him  and  he  asks  the  help  of 
the  all-powerful  white  man — Dawa,  hwana  "  ("  Medicine, 
sir  "),  and  pointed  significantly,  but  with  no  sign  of  indignation, 
to  his  condition.  A  thorough  treatment  with  soap  and  water 
seemed  indicated  in  the  first  instance,  to  remove  the  incrusta- 
tion of  dirt  accumulated  in  seven  days'  marching.  It  must 
be  said,  in  justice  to  the  patient,  that  this  state  of  things  was 
exceptional  and  due  to  scarcity  of  water,  for  Kazi  Ulaya's 
personal  cleanliness  was  above  the  average.  I  then  dressed 
with  lanohne,  of  which,  fortunately,  I  had  brought  a  large  tin 
with  me.    The  patient  is  now  gradually  getting  over  his  trouble. 

Another  case  gives  a  slight  idea  of  the  havoc  wrought  by 
the  jigger.    One  of  the  soldiers'  boys,  an  immensely  tall 

^  Dr.  Weule  translates  this  as  "  He  works  for  the  European,"  but  it 
is  more  accurately  rendered  "  Foreign  work,"  or  "  work  in  "  (or  "  of  ") 
"  Europe  " — or  foreign  countries  generally. 


88 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Maaraba  from  the  country  behind  Sudi,  comes  up  every  morn- 
ing to  get  dawa  for  a  badly,  damaged  great  toe.  Strangely 
enough,  I  have  at  present  neither  corrosive  sublimate  nor 
iodoform  in  my  medicine-chest,  the  only  substitute  being 
boric  acid  tabloids.  I  have  to  do  the  best  I  can  with  these, 
but  my  patients  have,  whether  they  like  it  or  not,  got  accus- 
tomed to  have  my  weak  disinfectant  applied  at  a  somewhat 
high  temperature.  In  the  case  of  such  careless  fellows  as  this 
Maaraba,  who  has  to  thank  his  own  lazy  apathy  for  the  loss 
of  his  toe-nail  (which  has  quite  disappeared  and  is  replaced  by 
a  large  ulcerated  wound),  the  hot  water  is  after  all  a  well- 
deserved  penalty.  He  yells  every  time  like  a  stuck  pig,  and 
swears  by  all  his  gods  that  from  henceforth  he  will  look  out 
for  the  funsa  with  the  most  unceasing  vigilance — for  the 
strengthening  of  which  laudable  resolutions  his  lord  and 
master,  thoroughly  annoyed  by  the  childish  behaviour  of  this 
giant,  bestows  on  him  a  couple  of  vigorous  but  kindly  meant 
cuffs. 

As  to  the  health  of  the  Masasi  natives,  I  prefer  to  offer  no 
opinion  for  the  present.  The  insight  so  far  gained  through  my 
morning  consultations  into  the  negligence  or  helplessness  of  the 
natives  as  regards  hygiene^  only  makes  me  more  determined 
to  study  other  districts  before  pronouncing  a  judgment.  I 
shall  content  myself  with  saying  here  that  the  negro's  power 
of  resisting  the  deleterious  influences  of  h^'s  treacherous  con- 
tinent is  by  no  means  as  great  as  we,  amid  the  over-refined 
surroundings  of  our  civilized  life,  usually  imagine.  Infant  mor- 
tality, in  particular,  seems  to  reach  a  height  of  which  we  can 
form  no  idea. 

Having  seen  my  patients,  the  real  day's  work  begins,  and  I 
march  through  the  country  in  the  character  of  Diogenes.  On 
the  first  few  days,  I  crawled  into  the  native  huts  armed  merely 
with  a  box  of  matches,  which  w^as  very  romantic,  but  did  not 
answer  my  purpose.  I  had  never  before  been  able  to  picture 
to  myself  what  is  meant  by  Egyptian  darkness,  but  now  I 
know  that  the  epithet  is  merely  used  on  the  principle  of  pars 
pro  toto,  and  that  the  thing  belongs  to  the  whole  continent, 
and  is  to  be  had  of  the  very  best  quality  here  in  the  plain  west 
of  the  Makonde  plateau.  The  native  huts  are  entirely  devoid 
of  windows,  a  feature  which  may  seem  to  us  unprogressive, 


A  HUT-INTERIOR 


89 


but  which  is  in  reahty  the  outcome  of  long  experience.  The 
native  wants  to  keep  his  house  cool,  and  can  only  do  so  by 
excluding  the  outside  temperature.    For  this  reason  he  dislikes 
opening  the  front  and  back  doors  of  his  home  at  the  same 
time,  and  makes  the  thatch  project  outward  and  downward 
far  beyond  the  walls.     My  stable-lantern,  carried  about  the 
country  in  broad  daylight  by  Moritz,  is  a  great  amusement 
to  the  aborigines,  and  in  truth  our  proceeding  might  well  seem 
eccentric  to  anyone  ignorant  of  our  object.     In  the  darkness 
of  a  hut-interior,  however,  they  find  their  complete  justifi- 
cation.   First  comes  a  polite  request  from  me,  or  from  Mr. 
Knudsen,  to  the  owner,  for  permission  to  inspect  his  domain, 
which  is  granted  with  equal  politeness.    This  is  followed  by 
an  eager  search  through  the  rooms  and  compartments  of  which, 
to  m}^  surprise,  the  dwellings  here  are  composed.    These  are 
not  elegant,  such  a  notion  being  as  3^et  wholly  foreign  to  the 
native  consciousness  ;  but  they  give  unimpeachable  testimony 
to  the  inmates'  mode  of  life.    In  the  centre,  midway  between 
the  two  doors  is  the  kitchen  with  the  hearth  and  the  most 
indispensable  household  implements  and  stores.    The  hearth  is 
simplicity  itself  :  three  stones  the  size  of  a  man's  head,  or 
perhaps  only  lumps  of  earth  from  an  ant-heap,  are  placed  at 
an  angle  of  120°  to  each  other.  On  these,  surrounded  by  other 
pots,  the  great  earthen  pot,  with  the  inevitable  ugali,  rests  over 
the  smouldering  fire.      Lying  about  among  them  are  ladles, 
or  spoons,  and  "  spurtles  "  for  stirring  the  porridge.  Over 
the  fireplace,  and  well  within  reach  of  the  smoke,  is  a  stage 
constructed  out  of  five  or  six  forked  poles.    On  the  cross- 
sticks  are  laid  heads  of  millet  in  close,  uniform  rows,  and  under 
them,  like  the  sausages  in  the  smoke-room  of  a  German  farm- 
house, hang  a  great  number  of  the  largest  and  finest  cobs  of 
maize,  by  this  time  covered  with  a  shining  layer  of  soot.  If 
this  does  not  protect  them  from  insects,  nothing  else  wiU ;  for 
such  is  the  final  end  and  aim  of  the  whole  process.    In  the 
temperate  regions  of  Europe,  science  may  be  concerned  with 
preserving  the  seed-corn  in  a  state  capable  of  germination  till 
sowing-time  ;  but  here,  in  tropical  Africa,  with  its  all-penetrat- 
ing damp,  its  all-devouring  insect  and  other  destroyers,  and, 
finally,  its  want  of  suitable  and  permanent  building  material, 
this  saving  of  the  seed  is  an  art  of  practical  utility.    It  will  be 


90 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


one,  and  not  the  least  welcome,  of  my  tasks,  to  study  this  art 
thoroughly  in  all  its  details. 

As  to  the  economy  of  these  natives,  their  struggle  with  tlie 
recalcitrant  nature  of  the  country,  and  their  care  for  tlie 
morrow,  I  am  waiting  to  express  an  opinion  till  I  shall  have 
gained  fuller  experience.  In  the  literature  dealing  with 
ethnology  and  national  economy,  we  have  a  long  series  of 
works  devoted  to  the  classification  of  mankind  according  to  the 
forms  and  stages  of  their  economic  life.  It  is  a  matter  of  course 
that  we  occupy  the  highest  stage  ;  all  authors  are  agreed  on 
one  point,  that  we  have  taken  out  a  lease  of  civilization  in  all 
its  departments.  As  to  the  arrangement  of  the  other  races 
and  nations,  no  two  authors  are  agreed.  The  text-books 
swarm  with  barbarous  and  half-barbarous  peoples,  with  settled 
and  nomadic,  hunter,  shepherd,  and  fisher  tribes,  migratory 
and  collecting  tribes.  One  group  carries  on  its  economic  arts 
on  a  basis  of  tradition,  another  on  that  of  innate  instinct, 
finally,  we  have  even  an  animal  stage  of  economics.  If  all  these 
classifications  are  thrown  into  a  common  receptacle,  the  result 
is  a  dish  with  many  ingredients,  but  insipid  as  a  whole.  Its 
main  constituent  is  a  profound  contempt  for  those  whom  we 
may  call  the  "  nature-peoples."  ^  These  books  produce  the 
impression  that  the  negro,  for  instance,  lives  direct  from  hand 
to  mouth,  and  in  his  divine  carelessness  takes  no  thought  even 
for  to-day,  much  less  for  to-morrow  morning. 

The  reality  is  quite  otherwise,  here  and  elsewhere,  but  here 
in  an  especial  degree.  In  Northern  Germany,  the  modern 
intensive  style  of  farming  is  characterized  by  the  barns 
irregularly  distributed  over  the  fields,  and  in  quite  recent  times 
by  the  corn-stacks,  both  of  which,  since  the  introduction  of 
the  movable  threshing-machine,  have  made  the  old  barn  at  the 
homestead  well-nigh  useless.  Here  the  farming  differs  only  in 
degree,  not  in  principle  ;  here,  too,  miniature  barns  are  irre- 
gularly scattered  over  the  shambas,  or  gardens  ;  while  other 
food-stores  which  surprise  us  by  their  number  and  size  are  found 

1  This  expression  {Naturvolker)  was  adopted  by  F.  Ratzel  in  prefer- 
ence to  the  vague  and  misleading  term  "  savages."  It  rests  on  the 
definition  of  civiUzation  as  a  process  whereby  man  renders  himself, 
in  an  ever-increasing  degree,  independent  of  nature.  The  usual 
English  equivalent,  "  primitive  peoples,"  is  somewhat  lacking  in 
precision. — [Tr.] 


DOVECOTES 


91 


close  to  and  in  the  homestead.  If  we  examine  the  interior  of 
the  house  with  a  light,  we  find  in  all  its  compartments  large 
earthen  jars,  hermetically  sealed  with  clay,  containing  ground- 
nuts, peas,  beans,  and  the  like,  and  neatly-made  bark  cylinders, 
about  a  yard  long,  also  covered  with  clay  and  well  caulked,  for 
holding  maize,  millet  and  other  kinds  of  grain.  All  these  recep- 
tacles, both  outdoor  and  indoor,  are  placed  to  protect  them 
from  insects,  rodents  and  damp,  on  racks  or  platforms  of  wood 
and  bamboo,  from  fifteen  inches  to  two  feet  high,  plastered 
with  clay,  and  resting  on  stout,  forked  poles.  The  outdoor 
food-stores  are  often  of  considerable  dimensions.  They 
resemble  gigantic  mushrooms,  with  their  thatched  roofs 
projecting  far  beyond  the  bamboo  or  straw  structure,  which 
is  always  plastered  with  mud  inside  and  out.  Some  have  a 
door  in  their  circumference  after  the  fashion  of  our  C3^1indrical 
iron  stoves  ;  others  have  no  opening  whatever,  and  if  the 
owner  wishes  to  take  out  the  contents,  he  has  to  tilt  the  roof 
on  one  side.  For  this  purpose  he  has  to  ascend  a  ladder  of  the 
most  primitive  construction — a  couple  of  logs,  no  matter  how 
crooked,  with  slips  of  bamboo  lashed  across  them  a  yard  apart. 
I  cannot  sketch  these  appliances  without  a  smile,  yet,  in  spite 
of  their  primitive  character,  the}^  show  a  certain  gift  of  technical 
invention. 

The  keeping  of  pigeons  is  to  us  Europeans  a  very  pleasing 
feature  in  the  village  econom}^  of  these  parts.  Almost  every 
homestead  we  visit  has  one  or  more  dovecotes,  very  different 
from  ours,  and  yet  well  suited  to  their  purpose.  The  sim- 
plest form  is  a  single  bark  cylinder,  made  by  stripping  the 
bark  whole  from  the  section  of  a  moderately  thick  tree.  The 
ends  are  fastened  up  with  sticks  or  flat  stones,  a  hole  is  cut 
in  the  middle  for  letting  the  birds  in  and  out,  and  the  box  is 
fastened  at  a  height  of  some  five  or  six  feet  above  the  ground, 
or  hung  up  (but  this  is  not  so  common)  like  a  swinging  bar 
on  a  stand  made  for  the  purpose.  This  last  arrangement  is 
particularly  safe,  as  affording  no  access  to  vermin.  As  the 
birds  multiply,  the  owner  adds  cylinder  to  cylinder  till  they 
form  a  kind  of  wall.  Towards  sunset,  he  or  his  wife  approaches 
the  dovecote,  greeted  by  a  friendly  cooing  from  inside,  picks 
up  from  the  ground  a  piece  of  wood  cut  to  the  right  size,  and 
closes  the  opening  of  the  first  bark  box  with  it,  doing  the  same 


92 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


to  all  the  others  in  turn,  and  then  leaves  them  for  the  night, 
secure  that  no  wild  cat  or  other  marauder  can  reach  them. 

I  have  found  out  within  the  last  few  days  why  so  few  men 
are  to  be  seen  in  my  rounds.  The  settlements  here  scarcely 
deserve  the  name  of  villages — they  are  too  straggling  for  that  ; 
it  is  onlv  now  and  then  that  from  one  hut  one  can  catch  a 


IJIJVI-.COTI-,    AND  GRANARY 


distant  ghmpse  of  another.  The  view  is  also  obstructed  by 
the  fields  of  manioc,  whose  branches,  though  very  spreading, 
are  not  easily  seen  through  on  account  of  the  thickly-growing, 
succulent  green  foliage.  This  and  the  hazi  pea  are,  now  that 
the  maize  and  millet  have  been  gathered  in,  the  only  crops  left 
standing  in  the  fields.  Thus  it  may  happen  that  one  has  to  trust 
entirely  to  the  trodden  paths  leading  from  one  hut  to  another, 
to  be  sure  of  missing  none,  or  to  the  guidance  of  the  sounds  in- 
separable from  every  human  settlement.  There  is  no  lack  of 
such  noises  at  Masasi,  and  in  fact  I  follow  them  almost  every 
day.  Walking  about  the  country  with  Nils  Knudsen,  I  hear 
what  sounds  like  a  jovial  company  over  their  morning  drink — 
voices  becoming  louder  and  louder,  and  shouting  all  together 
regardless  of  parliamentary  rules.  A  sudden  turn  of  the  path 
brings  us  face  to  face  with  a  drinking-party,  and  a  very  merry 


"  POMBE  " 


93 


one,  indeed,  to  judge  by  the  humour  of  the  guests  and  the 
number  and  dimensions  of  the  pombe  pots  which  have  been 
wholly  or  partially  emptied.  The  silence  which  follows  our 
appearance  is  like  that  produced  by  a  stone  thrown  into  a  pool 
where  frogs  are  croaking.  Only  when  we  ask,  "  Pombe  nzuri  ?  " 
("Is  the  beer  good  ?  ")  a  chorus  of  hoarse  throats  shouts 
back  the  answer — ''Nzuri  kabisa,  bwana  / ("Very  good 
indeed,  sir  !  ") 

As  to  this  pombe — well,  we  Germans  fail  to  appreciate  our 
privileges  till  we  have  ungratefully  turned  our  backs  on  our 
own  country.  At  Mtua,  our  second  camp  out  from  Lindi,  a 
huge  earthen  jar  of  the  East  African  brew  was  brought  as 
a  respectful  offering  to  us  three  Europeans.  At  that  time  I 
failed  to  appreciate  the  dirty-looking  drab  liquid  ;  not  so  our 
men,  who  finished  up  the  six  gallons  or  so  in  a  twinkling.  In 
Masasi,  again,  the  wife  of  the  Nyasa  chief  Masekera  Matola — 
an  extremely  nice,  middle-aged  woman — insisted  on  sending 
Knudsen  and  me  a  similar  gigantic  jar  soon  after  our  arrival. 
We  felt  that  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  refuse  or  throw  away 
the  gift,  and  so  prepared  for  the  ordeal  with  grim  deter- 
mination. First  I  dipped  one  of  my  two  tumblers  into  the 
turbid  mass,  and  brought  it  up  filled  with  a  liquid  in  colour 
not  unlike  our  Lichtenhain  beer,  but  of  a  very  different  con- 
sistency. A  compact  mass  of  meal  filled  the  glass  almost  to 
the  top,  leaving  about  a  finger's  breadth  of  real,  clear  "  Lichten- 
hainer."  "  This  will  never  do  !  "  I  growled,  and  shouted  to 
Kibwana  for  a  clean  handkerchief.  He  produced  one,  after  a 
seemingly  endless  search,  but  my  attempts  to  use  it  as  a  filter 
were  fruitless^ — not  a  drop  would  run  through.  "  No  use,  the 
stuff  is  too  closely  woven.  Lete  sanda,  Kibwana  "  ("  Bring 
a  piece  of  the  shroud  !  ")  This  order  sounds  startling  enough, 
but  does  not  denote  any  exceptional  callousness  on  my  part. 
Sanda  is  the  Swahili  name  for  the  cheap,  unbleached  and 
highly-dressed  calico  (also  called  bafta)  which,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  is  generally  used  by  the  natives  to  wrap  a  corpse  for 
burial.  The  material  is  consequently  much  in  demand,  and 
travellers  into  the  interior  will  do  well  to  carry  a  bale  of  it 
with  them.  When  the  dressing  is  washed  out,  it  is  little  better 
than  a  network  of  threads,  and  might  fairly  be  expected  to 
serve  the  purpose  of  a  filter. 


94 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


I  found,  however,  that  I  could  not  strain  the  ponihe  through 
it — a  few  scanty  drops  ran  down  and  that  was  all.  After 
trying  my  tea  and  coffee-strainers,  equally  in  vain,  I  gave  up 
in  despair,  and  drank  the  stuff  as  it  stood.  I  found  that  it 
had  a  slight  taste  of  flour,  but  was  otherwise  not  by  any  means 
bad,  and  indeed  quite  reminiscent  of  my  student  days  at  Jena — 
in  fact,  I  think  I  could  get  used  to  it  in  time.  The  men  of 
Masasi  seem  to  have  got  only  too  well  used  to  it.  I  am  far 
from  grudging  the  worthy  elders  their  social  glass  after  the 
hard  work  of  the  harvest,  but  it  is  very  hard  that  my  studies 
should  suffer  from  this  perpetual  conviviality.  It  is  im- 
possible to  drum  up  any  considerable  number  of  men  to  be 
cross-examined  on  their  tribal  affinities,  usages  and  customs. 
Moreover,  the  few  who  can  reconcile  it  with  their  engagements 
and  inclinations  to  separate  themselves  for  a  time  from  their 
itinerant  drinking-bouts  are  not  disposed  to  be  very  particular 
about  the  truth.  Even  when,  the  other  day,  I  sent  for  a  band 
of  these  jolly  topers  to  show  me  their  methods  of  basket- 
making,  the  result  was  very  unsatisfactory — they  did  some 
plaiting  in  my  presence,  but  they  were  quite  incapable  of 
giving  in  detail  the  native  names  of  their  materials  and 
implements — the  morning  drink  had  been  too  copious. 

It  is  well  known  that  it  is  the  custom  of  most,  if  not  all,  African 
tribes  to  make  a  part  of  their  supply  of  cereals  into  beer 
after  an  abundant  harvest,  and  consume  it  wholesale  in  this 
form.  This,  more  than  anything  else,  has  probably  given 
rise  to  the  opinion  that  the  native  always  wastes  his  sub- 
stance in  time  of  plenty,  and  is  nearly  starved  afterwards 
in  consequence.  It  is  true  that  our  black  friends  cannot  be 
pronounced  free  from  a  certain  degree  of  "  divine  carelessness  " 
— a  touch,  to  call  it  no  more,  of  Micawberism — but  it  would 
not  be  fair  to  condemn  them  on  the  strength  of  a  single  indica- 
tion. I  have  already  laid  stress  on  the  difficulty  which  the 
native  cultivator  has  of  storing  his  seed-corn  through  the 
winter.  It  would  be  still  more  difficult  to  preserve  the  much 
greater  quantities  of  foodstuffs  gathered  in  at  the  harvest  in 
a  condition  fit  for  use  through  some  eight  or  nine  months. 
That  he  tries  to  do  so  is  seen  by  the  numerous  granaries  sur- 
rounding every  homestead  of  any  importance,  but  that  he  does 
not  invariably  succeed,  and  therefore  prefers  to  dispose  of  that 


A  DARK-ROOM 


95 


part  of  his  crops  which  would  otherwise  be  wasted  in  a  manner 
combining  the  useful  and  the  agreeable,  is  proved  by  the 
morning  and  evening  beer-drinks  already  referred  to,  which, 
with  all  their  loud  merriment,  are  harmless  enough.  They 
differ,  by  the  bye,  from  the  drinking  in  European  public-houses, 
in  that  they  are  held  at  each  man's  house  in  turn,  so  that  every 
one  is  host  on  one  occasion  and  guest  on  another — a  highly 
satisfactory  arrangement  on  the  whole. 

My  difficulties  are  due  to  other  causes  besides  the  chronically 
bemused  state  of  the  men.  In  the  first  place,  there  are  the 
troubles  connected  with  photography.  In  Europe  the  amateur 
is  only  too  thankful  for  bright  sunshine,  and  even  should  the 
light  be  a  little  more  powerful  than  necessary,  there  is  plenty 
of  shade  to  be  had  from  trees  and  houses.  In  Africa  we  have 
nothing  of  the  sort — the  trees  are  neither  high  nor  shady,  the 
bushes  are  not  green,  and  the  houses  are  never  more  than 
twelve  feet  high  at  the  ridge-pole.  To  this  is  added  the  sun's 
position  in  the  sky  at  a  height  which  affects  one  with  a  sense 
of  uncanniness,  from  nine  in  the  morning  till  after  three  in  the 
afternoon,  and  an  intensity  of  light  which  is  best  appreciated 
by  trying  to  match  the  skins  of  the  natives  against  the  colours 
in  Von  Tuschan's  scale.  No  medium  betw^een  glittermg  light 
and  deep  black  shadow — how  is  one,  under  such  circumstances, 
to  produce  artistic  plates  full  of  atmosphere  and  feeling  ? 

For  a  dark-room  I  have  been  trying  to  use  the  Masasi  homa. 
This  is  the  only  stone  building  in  the  whole  district  and  has 
been  constructed  for  storing  food  so  as  to  prevent  the  recurrence 
of  famine  among  the  natives,  and,  still  more,  to  make  the 
garrison  independent  of  outside  supplies  in  the  event  of  another 
rising.  It  has  only  one  story,  but  the  walls  are  sohdly  built, 
with  mere  loopholes  for  windows ;  and  the  flat  roof  of  beaten 
clay  is  very  strong.  In  this  marvel  of  architecture  are  already 
stacked  uncounted  bags  containing  millet  from  the  new  crop, 
and  mountains  of  raw  cotton.  I  have  made  use  of  both  these 
products,  stopping  all  crevices  with  the  cotton,  and  taking  the 
bags  of  grain  to  sit  on,  and  also  as  a  support  for  my  table, 
hitherto  the  essential  part  of  a  cotton-press  which  stands  for- 
saken in  the  compound,  mourning  over  the  shipwreck  it  has 
made  of  its  existence.  Finally,  I  have  closed  the  door  with  a 
combination  of  thick  straw  mats  made  by  my  carriers,  and 


96 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


some  blankets  from  my  bed.  In  this  way,  I  can  develop  at  a 
pinch  even  in  the  daytime,  but,  after  working  a  short  time  in 
this  apartment,  the  atmosphere  becomes  so  stifling  that  I  am 
glad  to  escape  from  it  to  another  form  of  activity. 

On  one  of  my  first  strolls  here,  I  came  upon  a  neat  structure 

which  was  explained 
to  me  as  "  tego  ya 
ngunda  "  —  a  trap 
for  pigeons.  This 
is  a  system  of  sticks 
and  thin  strings,  one 
of  which  is  fastened 
to  a  strong  branch 
bent  over  into  a 
half-circle.  I  have 
been,  from  my 
youth  up,  interested 
in  all  mechanical 
contrivances,  and 
am  still  more  so  in 
a  case  like  this, 
where  we  have  an 
opportunity  of  gain- 
ing an  insight  into 
the  earlier  evolu- 
tional stages  of  the  human  intellect.  I  therefore,  on  my  return 
to  camp,  called  together  all  my  men  and  as  many  local  natives 
as  possible,  and  addressed  the  assembly  to  the  effect  that 
the  mzungu  was  exceedingly  anxious  to  possess  all  kinds 
of  traps  for  all  kinds  of  animals.  Then  followed  the  promise 
of  good  prices  for  good  and  authentic  specimens,  and  the  oration 
wound  up  with  Nendcni  na  tengenezeni  sasa/'^  ("  Now  go 
away  and  make  up  your  contraptions  !  "). 

How  they  hurried  off  that  day,  and  how  eagerly  all  my 
men  have  been  at  work  ever  since  !  I  had  hitherto  believed 
all  my  carriers  to  be  Wanyamwezi — now  I  find,  through  the 
commentaries  which  each  of  them  has  to  supply  with  his 
work,  that  my  thirty  men  represent  a  number  of  different 
tribes.  Most  of  them,  to  be  sure,  are  Wanyamwezi,  but  along 
with  them  there  are  some  Wasukuma  and  Manyema,  and  even 


RAT  TRAP 


TRAPPERS 


97 


a  genuine  Mngoni  from  Runsewe,  a  representative  of  that  gallant 
Zulu  tribe  who,  some  decades  ago,  penetrated  from  distant 
South  Africa  to  the  present  German  territory,  and  pushed 
forward  one  of  its  groups — these  very  Runsewe  Wangoni — as 
far  as  the  south-western  corner  of  the  Victoria  Nyanza.  As  for 
the  askari,  though  numbering  only  thirteen,  they  belong  to  no 
fewer  than  twelve  different  tribes,  from  those  of  far  Darfur  in 
the  Egyptian  Sudan  to  the  Yao  in  Portuguese  East  Africa. 
All  these  "  faithfuls  "  have  been  racking  their  brains  to  recall 
and  practise  once  more  in  wood  and  field  the  arts  of  their 
boyhood,  and  now  they  come  and  set  up,  in  the  open,  sunny 
space  beside  my  palatial  abode,  the  results  of  their  unwonted 
intellectual  exertions. 

The  typical  cultivator  is  not  credited  in  literature  with  much 
skill  as  a  hunter  and  trapper  ;  his  modicum  of  intellect  is  sup- 
posed to  be  entirely  absorbed  by  the  care  of  his  fields,  and  none 
but  tribes  of  the  stamp  of  the  Bushmen,  the  Pygmies  and  the 
Australian  aborigines  are  assumed  by  our  theoretic  wisdom 
to  be  capable  of  dexterously  killing  game  in  forest  or  steppe, 
or  taking  it  by  skilful  stratagem  in  a  cunningly  devised  trap. 
And  yet  how  wide  of  the  mark  is  this  opinion  of  the  schools  ! 
Among  the  tribes  of  the  district  I  am  studying,  the  Makua  are 
counted  as  good  hunters,  while  at  the  same  time  they  are 
like  the  rest,  in  the  main,  typical  hoe-cultivators — i.e.,  people 
who,  year  after  year,  keep  on  tilhng,  with  the  primitive  hoe, 
the  ground  painfully  brought  under  cultivation.  In  spite  of 
their  agricultural  habits  their  traps  are  constructed  with  won- 
derful ingenuity.  The  form  and  action  of  these  traps  is  suffi- 
ciently evident  from  the  accompanying  sketches  ;  but  in  case 
any  reader  should  be  entirely  without  the  faculty  of  "  technical 
sight,"  I  may  add  for  his  benefit  that  all  these  murderous 
implements  depend  on  the  same  principle.  Those  intended 
for  quadrupeds  are  so  arranged  that  the  animal  in  walking  or 
running  forward  strikes  against  a  fine  net  with  his  muzzle,  or 
a  thin  cord  with  his  foot.  The  net  or  the  string  is  thereby 
pressed  forward,  the  upper  edge  of  the  former  glides  down- 
wards, but  the  end  of  the  string  moves  a  little  to  one  side.  In 
either  case  this  movement  sets  free  the  end  of  a  lever — 
a^small  stick  which  has  hitherto,  in  a  way  sufficiently  clear 
from  the  sketch — kept  the  trap  set.    It  slips  instantaneously 

7-(2l3i) 


98 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


round  its  support,  and  in  so  doing  releases  the  tension  of  the 
tree  or  bent  stick  acting  as  a  spring,  which  in  its  upward  recoil 
draws  a  skilfully  fixed  noose  tight  round  the  neck  of  the 
animal,  which  is  then  strangled  to  death.  Traps  of  similar 
construction,  but  still  more  cruel,  are  set  for  rats  and  the 
like,  and,  unfortunately,  equal  cunning  and  skill  are  applied 
to  the  pursuit  of  birds.  Perhaps  I  shall  find  another  oppor- 
tunity of  discussing  this  side  of  native  life  ;  it  certainly 
deserves  attention,  for  there  is  scarcely  any  department  where 
the  faculty  of  invention  to  be  found  in  even  the  primitive 
mind  is  so  clearly  shown  as  in  this  aspect  of  the  struggle  for 
existence. 

Of  psychological  interest  is  the  behaviour  of  the  natives  in 
face  of  my  own  activity  in  this  part  of  my  task.  When,  we 
two  Europeans  having  finished  our  frugal  dinner.  Nils  Knudsen 
has  laid  himself  down  for  his  well-deserved  siesta,  and  the 
snoring  of  my  warriors  resounds,  more  rhythmically  than 
harmoniously  from  the  neighbouring  baraza,  I  sit  in  the  blazing 
sun,  like  the  shadowless  Schlemihl,  only  slightly  protected  by 
the  larger  of  my  two  helmets,  sketching. 

The  abihty  to  make  a  rapid  and  accurate  sketch  of  any  object 
in  a  few  strokes  is  one  whose  value  to  the  scientific  explorer 


TRAP  FOR  LARGE  GAME 
99 


100  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


cannot  be  overrated.  Photography  is  certainly  a  wonderful 
invention,  but  in  the  details  of  research-work  carried  on  day 
by  day,  it  is  apt  to  fail  one  oftener  than  might  be  expected, 
and  that  not  merely  in  the  darkness  of  hut-interiors,  but  over 
and  over  again  by  daylight  in  the  open  air. 

I  am  sitting  sketching,  then.  Not  a  breath  of  air  is  stirring — 
all  nature  seems  asleep.  My  pen,  too,  is  growing  tired,  when  I 
hear  a  noise  immediately  behind  me.  A  hasty  glance  shows 
me  that  the  momentum  of  universal  human  curiosity  has  over- 
come even  the  primaeval  force  of  negroid  laziness.  It  is  the 
whole  band  of  my  carriers,  accompanied  by  a  few  people 
belonging  to  the  place.  They  must  have  come  up  very  softly, 
as  they  might  easily  do  with  their  bare  feet  on  the  soft, 
sandy  soil.  Presently  the  whole  crowd  is  looking  over  my 
shoulder  in  the  greatest  excitement.  I  do  not  let  them  disturb 
me ;  stroke  follows  stroke,  the  work  nears  completion, — 
at  last  it  is  finished.  "  Sawasawa  ?  "  ("  Is  it  like  ?  ")  I  ask 
eagerly,  and  the  answering  chorus  of  "  Ndio  "  ("  Yes  ")  is 
shouted  into  my  ears  with  an  enthusiasm  which  threatens  to 
burst  the  tympanum.  "  Kizuri  "  ("  Is  it  fine  ?  ")  "  Kizuri 
Sana  kahisa  "  ("  Very  fine,  indeed  "),  they  yell  back  still  more 
loudly  and  enthusiastically;  Wewe  fundi'''  ("You  are  a 
master-craftsman  ").  These  flattering  critics  are  my  artists 
who,  having  practised  themselves,  may  be  supposed  to  know 
what  they  are  talking  about  ;  the  few^  washejtzi,  unlettered 
barbarians,  unkissed  of  the  Muse,  have  only  joined  in  the  chorus 
from  gregarious  instinct,  mere  cattle  that  they  are. 

Now  comes  the  attempt  at  a  practical  application.  I  rise 
from  my  camp-stool,  take  up  an  oratorical  attitude  and  inform 
my  disciples  in  art  that,  as  they  have  now  seen  how  I,  the 
fundi,  set  about  drawing  a  trap,  it  would  be  advisable  for  them 
to  attempt  a  more  difficult  subject,  such  as  this.  It  is  dull 
work  to  keep  on  drawing  their  friends,  or  trees,  houses,  and 
animals ;  and  they  are  such  clever  fellows  that  a  bird-trap 
must  surely  be  well  within  their  powers.  I  have  already 
mentioned  the  look  of  embarrassed  perplexity  which  I  encoun- 
tered when  beginning  my  studies  at  Lindi.  Here  it  was 
even  more  marked  and  more  general.  It  produced  a  definite 
impression  that  the  idea  of  what  we  call  perspective  for  the 
first  time  became  clear  to  the  men's  minds.  They  were  evidently 


BARTER 


101 


trying  to  express  something  of  the  sort  by  their  words  and 
gestures  to  each  other ;  they  fohowed  with  their  fingers  the 
strangely  foreshortened  curves  which  in  reahty  stood  for  circles 
— in  short,  they  were  in  presence  of  something  new — something 
unknown  and  unimagined,  which  on  the  one  hand  made  them 
conscious  of  their  intellectual  and  artistic  inferiority,  and  on  the 
other  drew  them  like  a  magnet  to  my  sketch-book.  None  of 
them  has  up  to  the  present  attempted  to  draw  one  of  these  traps. 

Travellers  of  former  days,  or  in  lands  less  satisfactorily 
explored  than  German  East  Africa,  found  the  difficulties  of 
barter  not  the  least  of  their  troubles.  Stanley,  not  so  many 
years  ago,  set  out  on  his  explorations  with  hundreds  of  bales  of 
various  stuffs  and  innumerable  kinds  of  beads,  and  even  thus 
it  was  not  certain  whether  the  natives  of  the  particular  region 
traversed  would  be  suited  ;  not  to  mention  the  way  in  which 
this  primitive  currency  increased  the  number  of  carriers 
required  by  every  expedition.  In  German  East  Africa,  where 
the  Colonial  Administration  has  so  often  been  unjustly  attacked, 
the  white  man  can  now  travel  almost  as  easily  as  at  home.  His 
letter  of  credit,  indeed,  only  holds  good  as  far  as  the  coast,  but 
if  his  errand  is,  like  mine,  of  an  official  character,  every  station, 
and  even  every  smaller  post,  with  any  Government  funds 
at  its  disposal,  has  orders  to  give  the  traveller  credit,  on  his 
complying  wdth  certain  simple  formalities,  and  to  provide  him 
with  cash.  The  explanation  is  not  difficult :  the  fact  that 
our  rui)ees  are  current  on  the  coast  compels  all  the  interior 
tribes  to  adopt  them,  whether  they  like  it  or  not.  I  brought 
with  me  from  Lindi  a  couple  of  large  sacks  with  rupees,  half 
and  quarter  rupees,  and  for  immediate  needs  a  few  cases  of 
heller.  ^  This  copper  coin,  long  obsolete  in  Germany,  has 
been  coined  for  circulation  in  our  colony,  but  the  natives 
have  not  been  induced  to  adopt  it,  and  reckon  as  before  by 
pice — an  egg  costs  one  pice  (peso)  and  that  is  enough — no  one 
thinks  of  working  out  the  price  in  hellers.  Neither  is  the  coin 
popular  with  the  white  residents,  who  deride  its  introduction 
and  make  feeble  puns  on  its  name — one  of  the  poorest  being 
based  on  the  name  of  the  present  Director  of  Customs,  which 
happens  to  be  identical  with  it. 

I  find,  however,  that  the  natives  are  by  no  means  averse  to 

^  100  to  the  rupee. 


102 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


accepting  these  despised  coins  wlien  they  get  the  chance.  On 
our  tramps  through  the  viUages,  Moritz  with  the  lantern  is 
followed  by  Mambo  sasa,  the  Mngoni,  carrying  on  his  woolly 
head  a  large  jar  of  bright  copper  coin  newly  minted  at  Berlin. 

After  a  long,  but  not  tedious  examination  of  all  the  apart- 
ments in  the  native  palaces,  I  return  to  the  light  of  day, 
dazzled  by  the  tropical  sunshine.  With  sympathetic  chuckles, 
my  bodyguard — those  of  my  men  who  are  always  with  me  and 
have  quickly  grasped,  with  the  sympathetic  intuition  peculiar 
to  the  native,  what  it  is  that  I  want — follow,  dragging  with 
them  a  heap  of  miscellaneous  property.  Lastly  come  the 
master  of  the  house  and  his  wife,  in  a  state  of  mingled  expecta- 
tion and  doubt.  Now  begins  the  bargaining,  in  its  essentials  not 
very  different  from  that  experienced  in  the  harbours  of  Naples, 
Port  Said,  Aden  and  Mombasa.  "  Kiasi  gani  .-^  "  ("  What  is  the 
price  ?  ")  one  asks  with  ostentatious  nonchalance,  including  the 
whole  pile  in  a  compendious  wave  of  the  hand.  The  fortunate 
owner  of  the  valuables  apparently  fails  to  understand  this,  so 
he  opens  his  mouth  wide  and  says  nothing.  I  must  try  him  on 
another  tack.  I  hold  up  some  article  before  his  eyes  and  ask, 
"  Nini  hii  .-^  "  ("  What  is  this  ?  "),  which  proves  quite  effectual. 
My  next  duty  is  to  imagine  myself  back  again  in  the  lecture-hall 
during  my  first  term  at  college,  and  to  write  down  with  the 
utmost  dihgence  the  words,  not  of  a  learned  professor,  but  of 
a  raw,  unlettered  mshenzi.  By  the  time  I  have  learnt  every- 
thing I  want  to  know,  the  name,  the  purpose,  the  mode  of  manu- 
facture and  the  way  in  which  the  thing  is  used,  the  native  is 
at  last  able  and  willing  to  fix  the  retail  price.  Up  to  the 
present,  I  have  met  with  two  extremes  :  one  class  of  sellers 
demand  whole  rupees,  Rupia  tatu  (three)  or  Rupia  nne  (four), 
quite  regardless  of  the  nature  of  the  article  for  sale — the  other, 
with  equal  consistency,  a  sumni  as  uniform  price.  This  is  a 
quarter-rupee — in  the  currency  of  German  East  Africa  an  ex- 
ceedingly attractive-looking  silver  coin,  a  little  smaller  than  our 
half-mark  piece  or  an  English  sixpence.  Possibly  it  is  its  handi- 
ness,  together  with  the  untarnished  lustre  of  my  newly-minted 
specimens  in  particular,  which  accounts  for  this  preference.  One 
thing  must  be  mentioned  which  distinguishes  these  people  very 
favourably  from  the  bandits  of  the  ports  already  mentioned. 
None  of  them  raises  an  outcry  on  being  offered  the  tenth  or 


AN  ACCOMPLISHED  YOUTH 


103 


twentieth  part  of  what  he  asks.  With  perfect  calm  he  either 
gradually  abates  his  demands  till  a  fair  agreement  is  reached,  or 
else  he  says,  at  the  first  offer,  "  Lete  "  ("  Hand  it  over  ").  At 
this  moment  Moritz  and  my  jar  of  coppers  come  to  the  front  of 
the  stage.  The  boy  has  quickly  lifted  the  vessel  down  from  the 
head  of  his  friend  Mambo  sasa.  With  the  eye  of  a  connoisseur 
he  grasps  the  state  of  our  finances  and  then  pays  with  the 
dignity,  if  not  the  rapidity,  of  the  cashier  at  a  metropolitan  bank. 
The  remaining  articles  are  bargained  for  in  much  the  same  way. 
It  takes  more  time  than  I  like  ;  but  this  is  not  to  be  avoided. 

Wlien  the  purchase  of  the  last  piece  is  completed,  my 
carriers,  with  the  amazing  deftness  I  have  so  often  admired, 
have  packed  up  the  spoil,  in  the  turn  of  a  hand,  in  large  and 
compact  bundles.  A  searching  look  round  for  photographic 
subjects,  another  last  glance  at  the  house-owner  chuckling  to 
himself  over  his  newly-acquired  wealth,  and  then  a  vigorous 

Kwa  heri''  ("Good-bye"),  and  lantern  and  jar  go  their 
way.  We  had  only  just  settled  into  our  house  here  when  we 
received  a  \asit  from  the  chief's  son,  Salim  Matola,  a  very  tall 
and  excessively  slender  youth  of  seventeen  or  eighteen,  magni- 
ficently clad  in  a  European  waistcoat,  and  ver^^  friendly. 
Since  then  he  has  scarcely  left  my  side  ;  he  knows  everything, 
can  do  everything,  finds  everything,  and,  to  my  delight,  brings 
me  everything.  He  makes  the  best  traps,  shows  me  with  what 
diabolical  ingenuity  his  countrymen  set  limed  twigs,  plays  on 
all  instruments  like  a  master,  and  produces  fire  by  drilling  so 
quickly  that  one  is  astonished  at  the  strength  in  his  slight 
frame.'  In  a  w^ord,  he  is  a  treasure  to  the  ethnographer. 

One  thing  only  seems  to  be  unknown  to  my  young  friend,  and 
that  is  work.  His  father,  Masekera  Matola,  already  mentioned, 
has  a  very  spacious*  group  of  huts  and  extensive  gardens. 
Whether  the  old  gentleman  ever  does  any  perceptible  work  on 
this  property  with  his  own  hands,  I  am  not  in  a  position  to 
judge,  as  he  is  for  the  present  most  strenuously  occupied  in 
consuming  beer  ;  but  at  every  visit,  I  have  noticed  the  women 
of  the  family  working  hard  to  get  in  the  last  of  the  crops. 
The  young  prince  alone  seems  to  be  above  every  plebeian 
employment.  His  hands  certainly  do  not  look  horny,  and  his 
muscles  leave  much  to  be  desired.  He  strolls  through  life  in  his 
leisurely  way  with  glad  heart  and  cheerful  spirit. 


CHAPTER  VII 

MY  CARAVAN  ON  THE  SOUTHWARD  MARCH 

Chingulungulu,  beginning  of  August,  1906. 

It  is  not  very  easy  to  locate  my  present  abode  on  the  map. 
Masasi  and  its  exact  latitude  and  longitude  have  been  known 
to  me  for  years,  but  of  this  strangely  named  place,  ^  where 
I  drove  in  my  tent-pegs  a  few  days  ago,  I  never  even  heard 
before  I  had  entered  the  area  of  the  inland  tribes. 

One  trait  is  common  to  all  Oriental  towns,  their  beauty  at  a 
distance  and  the  disillusionment  in  store  for  those  who  set 
foot  within  their  walls.  Knudsen  has  done  nothing  but  rave 
about  Chingulungulu  ever  since  we  reached  Masasi.  He 
declared  that  its  haraza  was  the  highest  achievement  of  East 
African  architecture,  that  it  had  a  plentiful  supply  of  delicious 
water,  abundance  of  all  kinds  of  meat,  and  unequalled  fruit 
and  vegetables.  He  extolled  its  population,  exclusively 
composed,  according  to  him,  of  high-bred  gentlemen  and 
good-looking  women,  and  its  well-built,  spacious  houses. 
Finally,  its  situation,  he  said,  made  it  a  convenient  centre 
for  excursions  in  all  directions  over  the  plain.  I  have  been 
here  too  short  a  time  to  bring  all  the  details  of  this  highly 
coloured  picture  to  the  test  of  actual  fact,  but  this  much  I 
have  already  ascertained,  that  neither  place  nor  people  are 
quite  so  paradisaical  as  the  enthusiastic  Nils  would  have  me 
beheve. 

To  relate  my  experiences  in  their  proper  order,  I  must, 

1  Chingulungulu  is  a  Yao  word,  meaning  the  turquoise  blue  beads 
which  have  always  been  a  staple  article  of  trade  since  the  days  of  the 
ancient  Egyptians. 

104 


106 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


however,  go  back  to  our  departure  from  Masasi  which,  owing 
to  a  variety  of  unfortunate  circumstances,  took  place  earlier 
than  originally  planned.  To  begin  with,  there  was  the 
changed  attitude  of  the  inhabitants,  who  at  first,  as  already 
stated,  showed  the  greatest  amiability,  and  allowed  us,  in 
the  most  obliging  way,  to  inspect  their  homes  and  buy  their 
household  furnishings.  In  my  later  sketching  and  collecting 
expeditions,  I  came  everywhere  upon  closed  doors  and  appar- 
ently deserted  compounds.  This  phenomenon,  too,  comes 
under  the  heading  of  racial  psychology.  However  much  he 
may  profit  by  the  foreigner's  visits,  the  African  prefers  to  have 
his  own  hut  to  himself.^ 

In  the  second  place,  we  began,  in  the  course  of  a  prolonged 
residence,  to  discover  the  drawbacks  of  our  quarters  in  the 
rest-house.  Knudsen,  who  is  very  sensitive  in  this  respect, 
insisted  that  it  was  damp,  and  we  soon  found  that  the  subsoil 
water,  which  indeed  reached  the  surface  as  a  large  spring  on  the 
hillside  a  little  below  the  house,  was  unpleasantly  close  to  our 
floor.  Even  on  the  march  up  from  the  coast,  Knudsen  had 
suffered  from  occasional  attacks  of  fever.  These  now  became 
so  frequent  and  severe  that  he  was  scarcely  fit  for  work.  His 
faithful  old  servant,  Ali,  nursed  him  with  the  most  touching 
devotion,  and  never  left  his  bedside  night  or  day. 

I  had  myself  on  various  occasions  noticed  a  curious  irrita- 
tion of  the  scalp,  for  which  I  could  discover  no  cause,  in  spite 
of  repeated  examination.  One  day,  while  hastening  across 
from  the  dark  room  to  the  rest-house,  with  some  wet  plates 
in  my  hand,  I  was  conscious  of  intense  discomfort  among  my 
scanty  locks,  and  called  out  to  Moritz  to  take  off  my  hat  and 
look  if  there  was  anything  inside  it.    He  obeyed,  inspected 

^  The  "  phenomenon  "  can  scarcely  be  considered  surprising,  in  view 
of  Dr.  Weule's  previous  remarks  (see  p..  52),  and  his  subsequent 
confession  of  the  difficulty  he  experienced  in  keeping  his  carriers  out 
of  mischief  at  Chingulungulu.  It  is  not  apparent  from  the  narrative 
whether  it  occurred  to  him  to  inquire  into  their  behaviour  at  Masasi. 
They  need  not  be  set  down  as  reprobates  beyond  all  other  wapagazi. 
The  carrier  expects  to  work  hard  on  the  march,  and  to  rest  and  enjoy 
himself  with  his  family  about  him  in  his  own  village,  also  to  have  some 
sort  of  a  spree,  in  reason,  when  paid  off  on  the  Coast,  in  the  interval 
between  two  journeys.  But  a  lengthened  period  of  inaction,  in  the 
middle  of  a  safari,  and  in  a  strange  country,  is  something  quite  outside 
his  scheme  of  life,  and  it  is  no  wonder  if  he  gets  demoralized. 


THE  REMITTENT  FEVER  TICK 


107 


the  hat  carefully  inside  and  out,  and,  on  pursuing  his  researches 
under  the  lining,  turned  grey  in  the  face,  and  ejaculated  with 
evident  horror,  "  Wadudu  wahaya  /  "  ^  The  case  becoming 
interesting,  I  put  my  plates  down  and  instituted  a  minute 
investigation  into  Moritz's  find,  which  proved  to  consist 
of  a  number  of  assorted  animalcules,  with  a  sprinkling  of 
larger  creatures  resembling  ticks.  This  was  somewhat 
startling.  I  had  come  to  Africa  with  a  mind  entirely  at  ease 
as  regards  malaria— I  swear  by  Koch  and  fear  nothing.  But 
remittent  fever  is  another  matter.  In  Dar  es  Salam  I  had 
heard  enough  and  to  spare  about  this  latest  discovery  of  the 
great  Berlin  bacteriologist,  and  how  it  is  produced  by  an 
inconspicuous  tick-hke  insect  which  burrows  in  the  soil 
of  all  sites  occupied  for  any  length  of  time  by  natives.  The 
mosquito-net,  I  was  told,  is  a  sufficient  protection  against  the 
full  grown  papasi,  as  they  are  called,  but  not  against  their 
hopeful  progeny,  which  can  slip  unhindered  through  the 
finest  mesh.  This  particular  kind  of  fever,  moreover,  was 
said  to  be  most  especially  trying — you  were  never  seriously 
ill,  and  yet  never  really  well,  or  fit  for  work ;  and  nothing, 
not  even  quinine,  would  avail  to  keep  the  attacks  from  recurring 
every  few  days.  Small  wonder  if,  at  the  sight  of  these  wadudu 
wahaya  in  the  shape  of  ticks,  I  too  turned  pale  at  the  thought 
of  the  ignoble  end  possibly  awaiting  my  enterprise  before  it 
was  w^ell  begun. 

I  had  already  found  out  that  Masasi  was  not  precisely  an 
abode  of  all  the  virtues,  and  that  an  appreciable  percentage 
of  the  soldiers  forming  the  garrison  at  the  homa  were  suffering 
from  venereal  diseases  ;  but  the  incident  which  precipitated 
our  departure  was  the  following.  The  akida,  or  local  headman 
(a  former  sergeant  in  the  Field  Force),  w^as  the  owner  of 
a  small  herd  of  cattle,  and  with  the  good-nature  which  is  one 
of  the  most  striking  traits  in  the  African  character,  earned  my 
warmest  gratitude  by  sending  me  a  small  jar  of  milk  every 
day.  After  a  time  we  heard,  and  the  rumour  gained  in  de- 
finiteness  with  each  repetition,  that  the  akida  was  a  leper. 
I  could  not  refuse  the  milk,  which  continued  to  arrive 
regularly,  and  came  in  very  handy  for  fixing  my  pencil  drawings. 

1  "  Bad  insects  !  ' 


108 


NATR^E  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


In  their  totality  the  evils  enumerated  may  not  signify  more 
than  a  succession  of  pin-pricks ;  but  even  such  trifling  inter- 
ferences with  human  well-being  may  in  the  end  appreciably 
diminish  one's  enjoyment  of  life.  With  the  attractions  of 
Chingulungulu  as  an  additional  inducement,  it  was  not  sur- 
prising that  only  a  day  or  two  intervened  between  the  first 

suggestion  that  we  should 
migrate  southward  and 
our  actual  departure. 
With  their  usual  monkey- 
like agility,  my  carriers 
one  evening  packed  a 
large  heap  of  specimens  in 
convenient  loads,  and  as 
quickly  the  order  was  given 
to  Saleh,  the  corporal  in 
command  of  the  askariy 
and  Pesa  mbih,  the  leader 
of  the  porters,  "  Safari 
to-morrow  at  six  !  " 

Next  to  Matola,  the  Yao 
chief  of  Chingulungulu, 
no  man  in  the  country  is 
oftener  in  men's  mouths 
than  his'  illustrious  col- 
league and  fellow  tribes- 
man, Nakaam,  of  Chiwata 
in  the  north-western  part 
of  the  Makonde  plateau. 
The  Europeans  on  the 
coast  are  not  agreed  as  to  which  of  these  two  chiefs  is 
the  more  powerful.  In  the  interior,  however,  Matola  seems 
to  be  far  more  looked  up  to  by  the  natives  than  the  chief  of 
Chiwata.  Nevertheless,  I  thought  it  absolutely  necessary  to 
visit  the  latter  and  his  people.  My  plans  are  not  based  on 
any  fixed  line  of  march,  but  were  expressly  arranged  so  that 
I  should  be  able  to  take  whatever  route  circumstances  might 
render  most  convenient. 

I  must  confess  that  my  stay  at  Masasi  has  turned  out  a 
disappointment  as  regards  the  customs,  habits  and  ideas  of  the 


THE   YAO   CHIEF  MATOLA 


THE  MASASI  PEAKS  AT  SUNRISE  109 


natives,  though  I  have  gained  a  very  fair  insight  into  the 
outward,  material  details  of  their  life.  But  here  too,  Nils 
Knudsen  is  ready  with  consolation  and  encouragement. 
*'  What  can  you  expect,  Professor  ?  the  people  here  are  a  terribly 
mixed  lot,  after  all,  and  have  lost  all  their  own  traditions  and 
customs.  Don't  waste  any  more  time  in  this  wretched  hole 
of  a  Masasi,  but  come  to 
Chingulungulu ;  you  have  no 
idea  what  a  fine  place  that  is  !  " 

We  marched  at  daybreak  on 
July  31.  The  road  through 
the  Masasi  district,  as  already 
mentioned,  skirts  the  great 
chain  of  insular  mountains  on 
the  east,  passing,  at  a  sufficient 
height  to  afford  an  extensive 
view  to  the  east  and  south, 
over  an  escarpment  formed  by 
the  products  of  aerial  denuda- 
tion from  the  gneiss  peaks.  Did 
I  say  the  plain  ?  it  is  an  ocean 
that  we  see  spread  out  before 
our  eyes,  a  white,  boundless 
expanse,  studded  with  islands, 
here  one,  there  another,  and 
yonder,  on  the  misty  horizon, 
whole  archipelagoes.  This 
wonderful  spectacle,  passing 
away  all  too  quickly  as  the  sun 
climbs  higher — the  peaks  rising 
like  islands  from  the  sea  of  the 
morning  mist,  while  our  cara- 
van trails  its  length  along  the  shore — pictures  for  us  as  in  a 
mirror  the  aspect  it  presented  in  those  distant  ages  when  the 
blue  waves  of  the  primaeval  ocean  rolled  where  now  the  blue 
smoke  of  lowly  huts  ascends  to  the  heavens. 

The  goal  of  our  first  day's  march  was  Mwiti,  where,  to  judge 
from  the  importance  given  to  it  on  the  map,  I  expected  a  large 
native  settlement.  Not  far  from  the  Masasi  Mission  station, 
the  road  to  Mwiti  branches  off  from  the  Coast  road  on  the  right. 


110  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


I  order  a  halt  ;  the  column  opens  out  ;  I  shout  into  the 
fresh  morning  air  "  Wapagazi  kwa  Lindi  /  "  ("  the  carriers  for 
Lindi  !  ")  ;  and  the  oldest  and  also  the  tallest  of  my  porters,  a 
]\Inyam\vezi  of  pronounced  Masai  type,  strides  up  with  a  heavy, 
swaying  motion  like  a  camel. 

His  name,  Kofia  tule,  was  at  first  a  puzzle  to  me.  I  knew 
that  kofia  means  a  cap,  but,  curiously  enough  it  never  occurred 
to  me  to  look  up  tule  (which,  moreover,  I  assumed  to  be  a 

Nyamwezi    word)   m    the  dictionary. 

That  it  was  sup-     ^  ^^""^-^  posed  to  involve  a 

joke  of  some  \v  sort,  I  gathered 


INTERIOR  OF  A  COMPOUND  AT  MWITI 


from  the  general  laughter,  whenever  I  asked  its  meaning. 
At  last  we  arrived  at  the  fact  that  kofia  tule  means  a  small,  flat 
cap — in  itself  a  ridiculous  name  for  a  man,  but  doubly  so 
apphed  to  this  black  super-man  with  the  incredibly  vacant  face. 

Kofia  tule,  then,  comes  slowly  forward,  followed  by  six 
more  Wanyamwezi,  and  some  local  men  whom  I  have  engaged 
as  extra  carriers.  With  him  as  their  mnyampara  they  are 
to  take  my  collections  down  to  the  Coast,  and  get  them  stored 
till  my  return  in  the  cellars  of  the  District  Commissioner's 
office  at  Lindi.  The  final  instructions  are  delivered,  and 
then  comes  the  order,  "  You  here,  go  to  the  left, — we  are  going 
to  the  right.  March  !  "  Our  company  takes  some  time  to 
get  into  proper  marching  order,  but  at  last  everything  goes 
smoothly.    A  glance  northward  over  the  plain  assures  us 


A  HOME  MAIL! 


Ill 


that  Kofia  tule  and  his  followers  have  got  up  the  correct 
safari  speed  ;  and  we  plunge  into  the  uninhabited  virgin  pori. 

There  is  something  very  monotonous  and  fatiguing  about 
the  march  through  these  open  woods.  It  is  already  getting  on 
for  noon,  and  I  am  half-asleep  on  my  mule,  when  I  catch  sight 
of  two  black  figures,  gun  in  hand,  peeping  cautiously  round  a 
clump  of  bushes  in  front.    Can  they  be  Wangoni  ? 

For  some  days  past  we  have  heard  flying  rumours  that 
Shabruma,  the  notorious  leader  of  the  Wangoni  in  the  late 
rebellion,  and  the  last  of  our  opponents  remaining  unsubdued, 
is  planning  an  attack  on  Nakaam,  and  therefore  threatening 
this  very  neighbourhood.  Just  as  I  look  round  for  my  gun- 
bearer,  a  dozen  throats  raise  the  joyful  shout  of  "  Mail-carrier !  " 
This  is  my  first  experience  of  the  working  of  the  German 
Imperial  Post  in  East  Africa  ;  I  learnt  in  due  course  that, 
though  by  no  means  remunerative  to  the  department,  it  is 
as  nearly  perfect  as  any  human  institution  can  be.  It  sounds 
like  an  exaggeration,  but  it  is  absolutely  true,  to  say  that  all 
mail  matter,  even  should  it  be  only  a  single  picture  post-card, 
is  delivered  to  the  addressee  without  delay,  wherever  he  may 
be  within  the  postal  area.  The  native  runners,  of  course,  have 
a  very  different  sort  of  duty  to  perform  from  the  few  miles 
daily  required  of  our  home  functionaries.  With  letters  and 
papers  packed  in  a  water-tight  envelope  of  oiled  paper  and 
American  cloth,  and^un  on  shoulder,  the  messenger  trots  along, 
full  of  the  importance  of  his  errand,  and  covers  enormous 
distances,  sometimes,  it  is  said,  double  the  day's  march  of  an 
ordinary  caravan.  If  the  road  lies  through  a  district  rendered 
unsafe  by  lions,  leopards,  or  human  enemies,  two  men  are 
always  sent  together.  The  black  figures  rapidly  approach  us, 
ground  arms  with  soldierly  precision  and  report  in  proper 
form  : — Letters  from  Lindi  for  the  Bwana  mkuhwa  and  the 
Bwana  mdogo — the  great  and  the  little  master.  As  long  as 
Mr.  Ewerbeck  was  with  us,  it  was  not  easy  for  the  natives  to 
estabhsh  the  correct  precedence  between  us.  Since  they 
ranked  me  as  the  new  captain,  they  could  not  possibly  call  me 
Bwana  mdogo.  Now,  however,  there  is  not  the  shghtest 
difficulty, — there  are  only  two  Europeans,  and  I  being,  not 
only  the  elder,  but  also  the  leader  of  the  expedition,  there  is 
nothing  to  complicate  the  usual  gradation  of  ranks. 


112 


NATR^E  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


By  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  a  broken  hilly  country 
had  taken  the  place  of  the  undulating  plain.  Every  few  minutes 
our  path  was  crossed  by  clear  streams,  running  in  steep-sided 
gulhes  almost  impassable  for  my  mule  and  the  heavily-laden 
carriers.  The  vegetation  became  greener  and  more  abundant, 
but  at  the  same  time  the  heat  in  these  narrow  ravines  proved 
well-nigh  suffocating.    I  rode  along,  trying  to  read  my  home 


CAMP  AT  MWITI 


to  time  formed  barriers  across  the  path,  or  the  thorny 
bushes  which  overhung  it.  Our  guide,  no  other  than 
Salim  Matola,  the  lanky  jack-of-all-trades,  had  m.arched 
on  far  ahead.  I  had  on  the  previous  day,  attracted 
by  his  many  good  qualities,  formally  engaged  him  as 
my  collector-in-chief  ;  whereupon,  true  to  his  character, 
he  inaugurated  his  new  functions  by  demanding  a  substantial 
sum  in  advance.  Unfortunately  for  him,  I  am  already  too 
old  in  African  experience  to  be  caught  so  easily.  "  First  show 
me  what  you  can  do,"  was  my  response,  "  and  then  in  a 
few  weeks'  time  you  may  ask  again.  Now  be  off  and  be  quick 
about  it  !  "    Salim  had  declared  on  oath  that  he  knew  the 


ARRIVAL  AT  NAKAAM'S 


113 


road  well.  The  map  is  not  to  be  relied  on  for  this  part  of  the 
country  ;  but  according  to  our  calculation  we  should  have 
reached  Mwiti  long  before  this.  With  a  sudden  resolution  I 
struck  my  heels  into  the  flanks  of  my  lazily-ambhng  mule  and, 
starting  him  into  a  gallop,  soon  overtook  the  guide  striding 
along  at  the  head  of  the  column.  "  Mwiti  wapi  ?  Where  is 
Mwiti?")  I  roared  at  him.  Sijui  Bwana''  ("  I  don't  know, 
sir,")  was  the  somewhat  plaintive  answer.  "  Simameni  !  " 
("Stop!"),  I  shouted  at  the  top  of  my  voice,  and  then  followed 
a  grand  shauri.  None  of  my  carriers  knew  the  country,  nor  did 
any  of  the  askari  or  their  boys  appear  any  better  informed. 
There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  march  by  the  map,  that  is 
to  say,  in  our  case,  turn  to  the  right  about  till  we  struck  the 
^Iwiti  stream  again,  and  then  follow  it  up  till  we  reached  the 
place  itself.  It  w^as  late  in  the  afternoon  when  the  longed-for 
goal  at  last  came  in  sight.  Salim  Matola  now  brought  back 
a  half-rupee  received  from  me,  protesting  that  it  was  bad," 
by  which  he  meant  that  the  Emperor's  effigy  had  sustained  a 
very  slight  damage.  The  young  man's  exit  from  my  presence 
was  more  speedy  than  dignified,  and  illustrated  the  miraculous 
effect  of  an  energetic  gesture  with  the  kiboko  (hippo-hide  whip). 
But  such  are  the  ways  of  the  native. 

Africa  is  the  land  of  contrasts.  Masasi,  at  a  height  of  from 
1,300  to  2,000  feet,  was  on  the  whole  pleasantly  cool,  while 
we  had  been  half-roasted  on  the  march  across  the  plain 
between  the  insular  mountains  and  the  Makonde  plateau  ; 
and  now  at  Mwiti  a  heavy  fur  coat  would  have  been  acceptable, 
so  bitterly  cold  is  the  strong  wind  which,  directly  the  sun  has 
set,  sweeps  down  from  the  heights  with  their  maximum 
atmospheric  pressure  to  the  rarefied  air  of  the  plain  which 
has  been  baking  in  the  heat  all  day  long.  Our  camping -place 
seemed  to  have  been  specially  designed  to  catch  all  the  winds 
of  heaven.  With  startling  strategic  insight,  Nakaam  has 
chosen  for  his  palace  a  site  on  a  promontory  ending  a  long  range 
of  heights  and  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  a  loop  of  the 
Mwiti  River.  On  these  three  sides  it  falls  away  in  precipitous 
cliffs,  the  only  easy  access  being  from  the  south.  If  I  call 
Nakaam's  house  a  palace,  I  am  not  exaggerating.  This 
chief  has  not  only  the  reputation  of  being  the  shrewdest  native 
in  the  southern  district,  but  he  must  be  comparatively  wealthy  ; 

8-(2i3i) 


114 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


otherwise  he  would  scarcely  have  been  able  to  employ  a 
competent  builder  from  the  Coast  to  erect  for  him  a  really 
imposing  house  with  many  rooms  and  a  high,  steep  roof.  The 
rooms  are  actually  well  lighted  with  real  though  unglazed 
windows,  which,  in  the  apartments  devoted  to  the  chief's 
harem,  can  be  closed  with  shutters.    The  architect  has  put  the 

finishing  touch  to  his 
work  by  ornamenting 
all  the  woodwork  in 
the  typical  Coast  style 
with  incised  arabesques. 
From  my  long  chair, 
into  which  I  threw  my- 
self quite  worn  out  on 
arriving,  I  gazed  in 
astonishment  at  the 
wide  verandah  shading 
the  front  of  this,  con- 
sidering its  surround- 
ings, doubly  remarkable 
building.  Suddenly  I 
started  up  and,  leaping 
over  the  confusion  of 
trunks  and  packing  cases 
just  laid  down  under 
the  verandah  by  the 
carriers,  hastened  to  one 
of  the  windows,  scarcely 
able  to  believe  my  eyes. 
A  swastika,  the  "fylfot," 
the  ancient  symbol  of  good  fortune,  here  in  the  centre  of  the  Dark 
Continent  !  "  May  you  bring  me  luck  too  !  "  I  murmured  to 
myself,  still  greatly  surprised.  In  fact,  it  was  the  well-known 
sign,  or  something  exceedingly  like  it,  neatly  inlaid  in  ivory 
in  the  centre  of  the  shutter.  When  Nakaam  appeared,  within 
four  hours,  in  response  to  an  urgent  summons  despatched  on 
our  arrival,  one  of  ni}^  first  questions,  after  the  customary 
ceremonious  salutations,  related  to  the  name  and  meaning  of 
the  figure  let  into  this  window-shutter.  My  disappointment 
was  great  when  he  simply  answered  "  Nyota — a  star."  We 


SHUTTER   WITH    INLAID  S 1 1 -I  M  I  k\  I .   IN  NAKAAM's 
HOUSE  AT  MVVITI 


AT  MWITI 


115 


must  therefore  suppose  that  the  swastika  is  unknown  to  the 
natives  of  the  interior.  In  the  present  case  it  was  probably, 
hke  the  rest  of  the  ornamentation,  introduced  by  the  builder 
from  the  Coast.  At  Mwiti  we  remained  a  day  and  a  half 
and  two  nights,  without  much  benefit  to  my  ethnographical 
collection.  Either  Nakaam  has  very  little  influence  over  his 
subjects,  or  they  must  be  very  few  in  number.  The  passing 
traveller  can  scarcely  judge  of  this,  for  the  hilly  nature  of  the 
country  prevents  any  comprehensive  survey,  and  the  tribes 


YAO  HUT 

hereabouts  live  scattered  over  so  wide  an  extent  of  ground 
that  the  small  area  visible  in  one  view  is  no  criterion  for 
the  whole.  All  the  more  varied  and  interesting  are  the 
psychological  observations  I  have  been  able  to  make  in  this 
place.  Nakaam  himself  is  a  short,  stout  man  of  middle 
age,  dressed  quite  after  the  Swahili  fashion  in  a  long  white 
kanzu  or  shirt-like  upper  garment.  As  to  his  nationality  I 
had  been  already  informed — the  jolly  pomhe  drinkers  at 
Masasi  had  told  me  with  malicious  grins  that  Nakaam  in  his 
conceit  called  himself  a  Yao,  but  was  in  reality  "  only  "  a 
Makua. 

In  the  evening,  Nakaam,  Knudsen  and  I  were  sitting  under 
the  verandah,  by  the  hght  of  my  lamp,  which,  however, 
maintained  a  very  precarious  existence  in  spite  of  all  the  mats 
and  blankets  we  had  hung  up  to  windward,  and  was  more  than 
once  extinguished  by  the  furious  hurricane  which  roared 
down  from  the  crest  of  the  plateau.    Nakaam  accepted  witli 


116  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 

much  dignity  two  bottles  of  so-called  jumhe's  cognac,"^ 
which  I  found  among  my  stores,  and  the  conversation  began 
with  a  discussion  of  Chiwata,  its  situation,  the  number  of  its 
inhabitants,  the  tribes  they  belonged  to,  and  similar  matters, 
We  ascertained  that  Nakaam's  subjects  were  chiefly  Wayao, 
"  And  you— are  you  a  Yao  yourself  ?  "  "  Ndio  "  ("  Yes  "), 
he  replied  with  evident  conviction.  But  I  could  not  refrain 
from  objecting,  "  All  the  men  in  this  country  say  you  are  not 
a  Yao  but  a  Makua." 

The  negro,  unfortunately,  cannot  blush  ^  or  it  would  have 
been  very  interesting  to  see  whether  this  noble  representative 
of  the  race  was  liable  to  that  reflex  action.  He  wriggled  for  a 
time,  and  at  last,  in  a  quite  inimitable  accent,  came  his 
answer,  "  Long  ago,  it  is  true,  I  was  a  Makua,  but  now,  for 
a  very  long  time,  I  have  been  a  Yao." 

His  metamorphosis  will  appear  somewhat  strange  to  those 
w^ho  have  paid  no  attention  to  African  ethnography.  It  is 
only  intelligible  in  the  light  of  what  has  taken  place  among 
the  population  of  this  region  in  the  course  of  the  last  hundred 
years.  In  Livingstone's  time,  between  forty  and  fifty  years 
ago,  the  whole  Rovuma  territory  was  at  peace,  the  people 
who  had  lived  there  from  time  immemorial  planted  their 
millet  and  manioc,  and  went  hunting  whenever  they  pleased.  ^ 
Then  from  the  far  south,  hostile  elements  swept  into  the  country 
in  successive  waves,  rolling  northw^ard  on  both  shores  of  Lake 
Nyasa.  Bands  of  armed  warriors,  in  sudden  onset,  without 
the  slightest  w^arning,  throw  themselves  on  the  old,  defenceless 
tribes,  and  sweep  them  before  their  onward  rush.    Not  till 

^  A  species  of  alcohol  expressly  designed  for  native  consumption, 
and  more  especially  as  a  present  to  chiefs  and  headmen.  Dr.  Weule 
refers  to  it  again  later  on,  but  gives  no  particulars  as  to  its  chemical 
constitution. — [Tr.] 

2  This  is  surely  a  mistake,  unless  the  word  "  blush  "  is  only  to  be 
used  of  turning  red.  Natives  certainly  change  colour  under  stress  of 
emotion . — [  Tr.] 

3  This  must  be  taken  with  some  reservations.  Even  in  1862,  when 
Livingstone  ascended  the  Rovuma  for  the  first  time,  he  repeatedly 
found  villages  deserted  for  fear  of  the  slavers,  whose  main  route  from 
Kilwa  to  Nyasa  crossed  the  Rovuma  above  Kichokomane.  Matters 
seem  to  have  become  worse  in  this  respect  by  1866.  See  Livingstone's 
Last  Journals,  Vol.  I,  pp.  24,  37,  39,  41  and  elsewhere.  The  Mazitu 
(Wangoni)  had  already  become  a  terror  by  the  latter  date.  lb.,  p.  43,  etc. 
-[Tr.] 


THE  WANGOXI  INVASION  117 


they  reach  the  north  end  of  Nyasa  does  the  devastating  flood 
come  to  a  stop,  two  or  three  Zulu  kingdoms — for  the  intruders 
belong  to  that  brave  and  warlike  race — are  founded,  and 
a  new  era  begins.  But  what  consequences  ensue  for  the  whole 
of  East  Africa  !  In  wars  and  raids  repeated  again  and  again 
over  hundreds  of  miles,  the  new  rulers  of  the  land  have  made 
a  wilderness  of  the  old  thickly-populated  and  well-tilled 
land.  Under  the  name  of  the  Mazitu,  they  were  the  terror 
of  the  country  between  Nyasa  and  Tanganyika  by  the  end  of 
the  sixties.  Later  on,  in  the  early  days  of  German  colonial 
rule,  they  became,  under  that  of  ^lafiti,  a  far  worse  terror  to 
the  whole  vast  region  between  Nyasa  and  the  Indian  Ocean. 
Under  the  further  designations  of  Wamachonde,  Magwangwara 
and  Wangoni,  they  still  form  an  unpleasant  topic  of  conversa- 
tion at  caravan  camp-fires.  To-day,  indeed,  there  is  scant 
justification  for  the  dread  they  inspire,  for  within  the  last  few 
years  the  supremacy  of  these  Zulus  has  come  to  an  end — the 
effect  of  the  German  arms  has  been  too  lasting.  Only  one  of 
their  chiefs,  the  Shabruma  already  mentioned,  is  still,  with  a 
small  band  of  followers,  making  the  country  unsafe ;  all  the 
others  have  unconditionally  accepted  our  terms. 

This  Wangoni  invasion — Wangoni  is  the  name  which  by 
tacit  agreement  is  used  to  include  all  these  immigrant  South 
African  elements — has  been  the  proximate  cause  of  the  following 
remarkable  process. 

The  old  residents  of  the  country,  so  far  as  they  remained — for 
in  many  cases  their  men  were  all  killed  by  the  Wangoni,  and 
the  women  and  children  carried  off  to  the  cool,  damp  region 
east  of  the  north  end  of  Lake  Nyasa,  and  incorporated  with 
the  Zulu  tribe — saw  that  the  Mngoni,  with  his  short  spear,  his 
oval  hide  shield  and  his  fantastic  ornaments  of  vulture's 
feathers,  strips  of  leopard-skin  and  so  forth,  was  irresistible. 
These  people  never  understood  that  the  formidable  appearance 
of  the  enemy  was  only  in  a  slight  degree  responsible  for  this 
result,  which  in  truth  was  mainly  achieved  by  the  greater 
courage  of  the  Wangoni  and  their  serried  charge  with  the 
short  stabbing  assagai — a  terrible  weapon,  indeed,  at  close 
quarters.  They  took  the  appearance  for  the  reality,  copied 
the  Wangoni  style  of  dress,  and  tried  also  to  imitate  the  rest 
of  their  martial  equipment.     This  notion  is  prevalent  among 


118 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


the  same  tribes  even  at  the  present  day.  ^  This  whole 
process  may  be  described,  in  biological  terms,  as  a  kind  of 
mimicry,  still  more  interesting  by  reason  of  the  circum- 
stance that  it  has  found  its  exact  counterpart  in  the 
north  of  the  colony,  near  Kilimanjaro,  and  in  the  districts 
west  and  south-west  of  it.  There  the  resident  Bantu  tribes, 
having  experienced  the  superiority  of  the  Masai  with  their 
gigantic  spears,  their  huge,  strong  leather  shields,  and  their 
fantastic  war  ornaments,  have  immediately  drawn  their  own 
conclusions,  and  to-day  one  sees  all  these  tribes — Wachaga, 
Wapare,  Wagweno,  Wagogo,  and  so  on,  in  a  get-up  which  makes 
the  nickname  "  apes  of  the  Masai  "  appear  quite  justified. 

Here  in  the  south,  however,  the  part  played  by  mimicry  in 
native  life  is  by  no  means  exhausted  by  this  aping  of  the 
Wangoni.  The  far-reaching  confusion  which,  since  the  Zulu 
king,  Tshaka,  took  the  stage  in  1818.  has  never  allowed 
South  Africa  to  come  to  rest,  has  set  off  other  tribes  besides 
the  Zulus  on  a  northward  migration.  The  peoples  most 
immediately  affected  by  this  were  the  Yaos  and  the  Makua  : 
the  former  are  penetrating  from  their  original  seats  between 
the  Rovuma  and  the  Zambezi,  slowly  but  persistentty  into 
the  German  territory,  while  the  Yaos  are  moving  forward, 
as  imperceptibly  and  perhaps  still  more  persistently,  from 
their  country  which  lies  further  west,  at  the  south  end  of 
Nyasa.  Thus  these  two  waves  of  population  collide  just 
here,  in  the  district  I  am  studying,  at  an  acute  angle,  and 
this  was  one  of  my  principal  reasons  for  proceeding  to  this 
remote  corner,  when  the  rebellion  prevented  my  journey  to 
Iraku. 

Now  the  Makua,  or  at  least  some  individuals  among  them, 
seem  to  be  like  manv  Germans  abroad — -they  begin  to  look 
on  themselves  and  their  nationality  as  something  inferior 
and  contemptible,  and  their  first  preoccupation  is  to  dismiss 
from  their  minds  every  recollection  of  their  own  country 
and  their  native  language.  In  this  country,  since  the  terror 
of  the  Wangoni,  whose  last  raids  took  place  about  1880, 
has  somewhat  faded  from  the  memory  of  the  rising  generation, 

^  Joseph  Thomson  made  the  same  remark  with  regard  to  the  Mahenge 
somewhat  further  north. — See  To  the  Central  African  Lakes  and  Back, 
Vol.  I,  p.  188.— [Tr.] 


"A  MAKUA  OF  LONG  AGO" 


119 


the  Wayao  are  the  aristocrats.  No  wonder  that  so  vain  a  man 
as  Nakaam  undoubtedly  is,  flatly  denies  his  own  nationality, 
in  order  to  be  considered  socially  up  to  the  mark. 

A  most  comical  effect  is  produced  when  a  native  wishes  to 
emphasize  some  notion  as  being  quite  out  of  the  common — as 
for  instance  when  he  wishes  to  say  that  something  is  very 
high  or  very  distant,  very  beautiful,  or  only  to  be  expected 
in  the  far  future,  or  the  hke.  This  is  expressed  by  an  inimit- 
able screwing  up  of  the  voice  on  the  adjectiye  or  adverb  in 
question  to  the  highest  possible  falsetto.  I  shall  come  back 
later  to  this,  which  is  an  unusually  interesting  point  in  lin- 
guistics ;  for  the  present  I  can  only  recall  with  intense  pleasure 
my  amusement  when  Nakaam,  in  saying  "  Mimi  Makua, 
lakini  wj  zamani  "  ("I  am  a  Makua,  but  one  of  long  ago  ") 
so  lengthened  out  the  syllables  "  mani,^'  and  elevated  the 
"  ni  "  so  far  into  the  top  of  his  head,  that  I  feared  he  would 
never  find  his  way  back  to  the  present. 

Having  thus  convinced  Nakaam,  though  not  precisely  to 
his  own  satisfaction,  of  his  real  origin,  we  were  about  to  pass 
on  to  a  different  and,  for  him,  more  pleasing  topic,  when 
we  suddenly  found  ourselves  in  the  dark.  The  roar  of  the  gale 
had  steadily  increased  through  the  evening,  the  occasional 
squalls  had  become  fiercer  and  more  frequent,  and  now  a 
real  hurricane  was  raging  round  the  swastika-palace  and  the 
tents ;  and  our  mats  and  blankets  were  flapping  about  our  ears 
like  st.orm-lashed  sails.  The  heavy  roof  of  the  house  creaked 
and  groaned  in  all  its  joists,  and  our  tents  could  scarcely 
stand  against  the  tremendous  force  of  the  wind.  Every 
attempt  to  light  the  lamp  once  more  would  have  been  vain, 
and  considering  the  highly  inflammable  nature  of  our  surround- 
ings, extremely  dangerous.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but 
to  put  an  end  to  the  interview,  just  as  it  began  to  grow 
interesting,  and  crawl  into  one's  tent,  to  bed. 

Sleeping  in  Africa  has  its  peculiar  discomforts.  First,  the 
trough-hke  camp-bed  is  less  conducive  to  rest  than  the  broad 
iron  bedsteads  of  the  coast ;  then,  the  fall  in  the  temperature 
about  an  hour  before  sunrise  awakens  one  and  forces  one 
to  reach  for  another  blanket ;  and,  finally,  the  chorus  of  cough- 
ing always  to  be  heard  from  a  large  caravan  most  effectually 
murders  sleep  !    On  the  march  from  Lindi  to  Masasi,  the 


120  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


whole  troop  of  police  had  always  camped  for  the  night  in  a 
close  circle  round  our  tents,  heads  pointing  outward ;  and  in  the 
bitterly  cold  nights  at  Nangoo  and  Chikugwe,  there  was  such 
a  coughing  and  spitting  that  one  did  not  know  which  deserved 
most  compassion,  the  unhappy  wretches  shivering  outside, 
or  ourselves.  Here  at  Mwiti,  I  wanted  to  quarter  both  the 
escort  and  the  carriers  at  a  distance  from  my  own  tent  ;  but 
the  corporal  in  command  of  the  dozen  men  assigned  me  in  the 
former  capacity,  by  Ewerbeck,  explained  that  it  would  not  do, 
as  the  Wangoni  were  approaching.  So  I  had  once  more  to  let 
them  lay  down  their  mats,  and  plant  the  poles  on  which  to  hang 
their  guns  and  cartridge-belts,  all  round  my  tent,  and  could 
get  no  sleep  for  their  coughing  ;  but  this  time  pity  was  stronger 
than  irritation.  There  was  only  too  much  cause  for  the  former  : 
the  small  open  space  in  front  of  Nakaam's  house,  where  we 
have  pitched  our  tent,  is  almost  treeless  and  quite  unprotected 
against  the  icy  wind  from  the  heights.  Each  man  builds  a 
good  fire  beside  his  mat,  but  this  does  not  avail  to  keep  them 
warm  in  their  thin  khaki  suits. 

The  native  is  certainly  an  incomprehensible  being.  Next 
morning  I  called  all  the  men  together  and  told  them  to  build 
themselves  grass  huts,  or,  if  that  was  too  much  trouble,  at  least 
screens  to  protect  them  against  the  wind. — Ndio,  Bwana'' 
("Yes,  sir,")  answered  the  whole  company;  but  when  the 
afternoon  came,  and  I  inquired  about  their  shelters,  it  came  out 
that  there  were  none.  I  was  going  on  in  a  few  days,  it  seemed, 
and  so  there  was  no  object  in  building  shelters.  "  Very  good !  " 
I  replied  coldly,  "  then  you  may  just  freeze.  But  those  who 
come  to  me  with  colds,  in  the  next  few  days,"  I  added  to 
myself,  "  shall  not  be  treated  with  anything  pleasant,  like 
aspirine,  but  with  quinine  ;  and  they  shall  not  have  it  in  water, 
but  dry  ;  and  I  mean  to  make  the  rascals  chew  this  beautiful 
strong  daw  a  before  my  eyes."  Thus  does  Africa  spoil  the 
character  and,  unfortunately,  not  that  of  the  natives  only. 

My  second  day  at  Mwiti  was  fraught  with  yet  other  instruc- 
tive experiences.  The  fever,  from  which  I  have  only  just 
recovered,  must  still  be  hanging  about  me,  for  I  felt  a  strange 
slackness,  and  quietly  went  to  sleep  during  the  forenoon  in 
my  long  chair  under  Nakaam's  haraza.  I  was  awakened  by 
strange  sounds,  a  smack  and  a  howl  alternately,  and,  glancing 


ELDERLY  MAKONDE  WOMAN  IN  GALA  DRESS 


122 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


to  the  left,  perceived  that  the  fair-haired  Nils,  in  his  quality 
of  interim  sub-prefect,  was  dispensing  justice  hke  a  second 
Solomon.  I  have  been  present  at  several  trials  since  I  first 
arrived  at  Lindi,  but  such  an  experience  is  always  interesting  ; 
so  I  was  on  the  spot  in  a  moment.  The  delinquent  had  in  the 
meantime,  howling  loudly,  received  his  five  blows  in  full  tale, 
and  now  stood  upright  once  more,  rubbing  the  injured  part  with 
excusa.bly  mixed  feelings,  though  still  looking  impudent  enough. 
Being,  according  to  the  present  custom  of  the  country,  some- 
what disguised  in  drink,  he  had,  in  the  course  of  his  examina- 
tion, gone  so  far  as  to  address  Knudsen  by  a  particular  name — 
apparently  the  nickname  by  which  he  was  known  to  the 
natives  behind  his  back.  This  could  not  be  passed  over : 
hence  the  execution.  The  native,  it  may  be  said,  looks 
on  this  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  would  be  much  astonished 
if  any  want  of  respect  failed  to  meet  with  condign  punishment 
0:1  the  spot.  In  fact,  he  would  think  us  very  slack,  and  quite 
unfit  to  be  his  masters. 

The  next  case,  of  which  likewise  I  only  witnessed  the  con- 
clusion, also  had  a  touch  of  tragicomedy.  I  saw  Corporal 
Saleh  hastening  across  the  square  with  a  piece  of  stout  cocoa- 
nut  rope,  such  as  is  used  by  carriers  to  tie  up  their  loads,  in  his 
hand.  Before  I  could  look  round  he  had  seized  a  young 
man  standing  before  Knudsen  and  bound  his  arms  tightly 
behind  his  back.  The  culprit  submitted  quietly,  but  a  deaf- 
ening outburst  of  talk  arose  when  Saleh,  throwing  the  rope  like  a 
lasso,  fastened  the  other  end  round  the  waist  of  a  young  woman 
standing  by,  who  chiefly  attracted  my  attention  by  the  truly 
Hottentot  development  of  her  figure  about  the  hips.  I  ventured 
to  interrupt  this  remarkable  scene  by  inquiring  what  was  up. 

"  Just  look  at  this  other  man,"  said  the  modern  Solomon, 
"He  is  the  woman's  husband,  and  she  has  been  living  for  months 
with  the  other,  while  he  was  awa}^  on  a  journey.  And  when 
he  came  back  and  found  them  together,  the  scoundrel  bit 
him  in  the  hand  into  the  bargain." 

"  Oh  !  and  to  rew^ard  th^.s  precious  couple  you  are  fastening 
them  together  ?  " 

"  Not  exactlv  as  a  reward  ;  but  they  must  be  sent  down 
to  Lindi  for  trial.  He  is  sure  to  get  a  month  or  two  on  the 
chain-gang ;  and  I  have  no  other  way  of  sending  them  down." 


''BADO''  AND  ''HAPANA'' 


123 


I  have  seldom  seen  such  delighted  faces  as  those  of  the  two 
dehnquents  as  they  were  led  away. 

All  day  long  I  had  seen  one  of  my  carriers  lurking  about  my 
tent.  In  the  afternoon  he  plucked  up  courage  and  approached, 
saying  that  he  wanted  dawa.  "  What  for  ?  "  I  asked,  somewhat 
distantly.  "  For  a  wound."  I  supposed  that  he  had  some- 
how hurt  himself  on  the  march,  and  sent  for  Stamburi,  the 
soldier  who  is  entrusted  with  the  treatment  of  all  cases  I  do 
not  care  to  undertake  myself.  Stamburi  had  some  little 
difficulty  in  getting  rid  of  the  crust  of  dirt  wiiich  encrusted  the 
wounded  leg,  but  at  last  succeeded  in  laying  bare  an  old 
ulcer  on  the  shin,  which  had  eaten  dow^n  to  the  bone  and  was 
in  a  horrible  condition.  Indignantly  I  turned  on  Mr.  Sigareti, 
— such  is  the  dirty  fellow's  name — and  told  him  that  he  had 
cheated  me  ;  he  was  no  porter,  but  a  sick  man  who  ought  to 
be  in  hospital.  This  wound  was  not  recent,  but  months 
old,  and  I  should  send  him  back  to  Lindi  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity. With  quiet  insolence  he  replied,  "  Lindi  hapana, 
Bwana ;  "  he  had  been  engaged  for  six  months,  and  should  not 
dream  of  leaving  any  sooner.  It  was  a  very  unpleasant  predi- 
cament for  me,  ignorant  as  I  was  of  the  regulations  bearing  on 
the  case.  If  I  kept  the  man  it  was  probable  that  he  might 
become  incapacitated,  or  even  die  on  the  road ;  if  I  sent  him  off 
into  the  bush,  he  was  sure  to  be  eaten  by  lions.  In  any  case 
it  is  interesting  to  note  the  one-sided  development  of  this 
honest  fellow's  sense  of  justice — he  insists  on  the  letter  of  his 
bond,  but  only  so  far  as  it  is  to  his  own  advantage.  The 
whole  black  race  may  best  be  characterized  by  two  little  words, 
hapana  (literally  "there  is  not"  or  "  it  is  not  there,"  but 
usually  employed  in  the  sense  of  "no"),  and  hado,  "  not  yet." 
At  least  ninety-nine  out  of  every  hundred  questions  are  an- 
swered by  one  or  other  of  these  two  expressions.  "  Have  you 
done  so  and  so  ?  "  or,  "  Where  is  such  a  thing  ?  " — asks  the 
European:  the  answer  will  be  in  the  first  case,  Bado,''  and 
in  the  second,  "  Hapana''  I  have  before  now  suggested  that 
all  the  Bantu  idioms  of  East  Africa  might  be  comprehended 
under  the  collective  designation  of  Kibado  or  Kihapana.  At 
first  one  finds  it  rather  amusing,  especially  if  one  notices  the 
affected  intonation  of  the  "  bado''  but  in  the  end  the  incessant 
repetition  of  these  two  words,  never  varied  by  a  Ndio  ("  Yes,") 


124  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


or  Nimekwisha''' 1  have  finished,")  becomes  monotonous, 
and  drives  the  long-suffering  traveller  to  his  kihoko. 

Towards  the  evening  of  this  same  memorable  day,  about 
an  hour  before  sunset,  a  small  boy  of  eight  or  nine  came  up  and 
offered  for  sale  a  number  of  small  ornamental  combs.  The 
things  were  indeed  beautifully  made,  the  comb  itself  being  com- 
posed of  thin,  rounded  slips  of  wood,  and  the  upper  end  covered 
with  different-coloured  pieces  of  straw,  arranged  in  neat  geo- 
metrical patterns.  "  Where  are  these  things  made  ?  "  I  de- 
manded of  the  little  merchant.  "  Karihu  sana  "  ("  Very  near  "), 
was  the  prompt  answer.  "And  who  makes  them  ?  "  "A  fundi  " 
(a  master- workman) ,  said  the  boy,  evidently  surprised  at  the 
ignorance  of  the  white  man,  who  might  surely  be  expected 
to  know  that  in  this  country  everything  is  made  by  a  fundi. 
The  bargain  was  quickly  concluded,  and  having  as  quickly 
exchanged  my  sun-helmet  for  a  light  felt  hat,  and  told  Kib- 
wana  (who  ran  up  with  unusual  nimbleness)  with  some  asperity 
to  leave  behind  the  gun  which  he  had  hastily  snatched  up, 
I  started  on  my  way  through  the  forest.  The  little  man 
hastened  forward  at  a  wonderful  pace.  Five,  ten,  fifteen  minutes 
passed,  and  every  time  I  asked  whether  we  were  not  nearly 
there,  came  the  deprecatory  reply.  ''Karihu  sana/^'  The 
fifteen  minutes  became  forty  and  then  sixty,  and  when  the  sun 
had  already  sunk  behind  the  hills,  we  seemed  to  be  no  nearer  the 
goal.  All  my  questions  produced  evasive  answers  ;  some- 
times a  distant  shamba  was  pointed  out  as  the  fundi's  abode, 
sometimes  he  was  affirmed  to  be  just  in  front  of  us. 

At  last,  growing  tired,  I  sprang  on  our  fleet-footed  little 
guide  from  behind,  seizing  him,  in  the  absence  of  any  other 
suitable  point  of  attack,  by  the  ears.  A  severe  cross-examin- 
ation, assisted  by  gentle  reminders  applied  in  the  same  quarter, 
elicited  the  fact  that  our  destination  was  high  up  in  the  hills, 
and  quite  as  far  ahead  as  we  had  already  come.  This  meant 
that  I  should  not  get  there  before  seven,  or  perhaps  eight,  by 
which  time  it  would  be  quite  dark  ;  and  I  was  unarmed  and  had 
no  prospect  of  shelter  for  the  night.  My  enthusiasm  for  native 
arts  and  crafts  not  running  to  such  a  length  as  that,  I  pulled  our 
guide's  ears  once  more,  with  a  short  explanation  of  European 
views  on  the  subject  of  distance,  dismissed  him  with  a  slight 
slap,  and  returned  empty-handed.    At  that  time  I  was  filled 


"  WHAT  IS  A  MILLION  ?  " 


125 


with  irritation  at  this  inscrutable  people  and  their  ways ; 
to-day,  when  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  am  forced  to  acknow- 
ledge that  things  are  really  not  so  very  different  at  home  : 
one  man  thinks  twenty  miles  a  mere  trifle,  another  finds  half 
a  mile  quite  enough  for  a  da^^'s  march.  I  have  already  noticed, 
however,  that  the  native  is  accustomed  to  greater  distances 
and  bases  his  calculations  on  greater  powers  of  walking  than 
we. 

Once  more  the  lamp  is  flickering  unsteadily  under  Nakaam's 
baraza,  which  is  better  protected  than  yesterday,  though  the 
storm  is  out  of  all  proportion  more  violent. 

"  So  there  are  sixty  millions  of  people  in  Ulaya  ?  "  asks 
Nakaam  in  astonishment.  "  Sixty  millions  !  But  what  is  a 
million  ?  Is  it  elfu  elfu  elfu — a  thousand  times  a  thousand 
times  a  thousand  ?  " 

Heavens!  think  I— the  fellow  is  going  it !  1,000  X  1,000  X 
1,000 — that  is  a  thousand  milhons.  Sixty  thousand  millions 
of  Germans  !  My  poor  country  !  Population  statistics  for 
ever  !  But  shall  I  undeceive  Nakaam  ?  Certainly  not — we 
have  not  so  much  prestige  that  we  can  afford  to  part  with 
a  jot.    So  I  answer  "  Ndio,  elfu  elfu  elfu''  and  let  it  go  at  that. 

"  And  how  many  soldiers  has  the  Sultani  ya  Ulaya,  the 
German  Emperor  ?  " 

Here  I  felt  quite  justified  in  sticking  to  the  truth.  "  When 
we  are  not  at  war  we  have  600,000  askari,  but  in  war-time  we 
have  six  millions." 

Nakaam  is  not  a  man  to  be  easily  impressed,  but  as  he  silently 
made  the  calculation,  "six  times  elfu  elfu  elfu''  it  was  plain 
that  we  were  rising  in  his  estimation.  However,  he  is  not  only 
of  a  critical  turn  of  mind,  but  also  knows  something  of  recent 
history. 

"  Is  it  not  true,"  he  asks,  "  that  in  the  great  war  between 
the  Russians  and  the  Japanese,  the  Russians  were  beaten  ?  " 
This  fact  I  could  not  indeed  deny,  however  much  I  might 
wish  to  do  so ;  but  I  thought  it  advisable  to  add,  in  the  same 
breath  with  my  affirmative  answer,  that  this  defeat  signified 
nothing  to  us,  for  we,  the  Wadachi,  were  much  stronger  than 
the  Russians,  the  Japanese  and  the  English  all  together. 
Nakaam  certainly  looked  convinced,  but  whether  he  was 
genuinely  so  or  not,  who  can  tell  ? 


126 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


In  geography  my  boy  Moritz  headed  the  class  till  recently. 
I  heard  him  giving  his  friends,  and  anyone  else  who  cared  to 
listen,  long  lectures  on  Ulaya  and  America.  He  spoke  of 
Berlin,  Hamburg  and  Leipzig  and  explained  to  an  interested 
audience  with  inexhaustible  patience  what  was  the  end  and 
aim  of  his  master's  being  in  distant  Ulaya.  I  was  the  Bwana 
mkuhwa,  so  he  said,  of  a  great — a  very  great  house— in  which 
were  the  mats  and  stools  and  pots  and  spoons  and  cocoa-nut 
graters  of  all  the  tribes  in  the  world ;  and  I  had  come  into  this 
country  to  get  more  of  such  things  and  take  them  to  Ulaya. 
It  must  be  acknowledged  that  Moritz  gave  a  pretty  fair  inter- 
pretation of  the  end  I  had  in  view;  but  his  fame  was  soon  echpsed 
when,  a  day  or  two  before  we  left  Masasi,  Ali,  the  far-travelled, 
came  up  from  Lindi,  to  enter  Knudsen's  service  once  more. 
Moritz's  squeaky  voice  was  now  silenced,  for  Ali  was  able  to 
relate  what  he  had  seen  with  his  own  eyes  at  Berlin  and  Ham- 
burg, having  once  visited  Germanv  with  a  former  master. 
His  only  regret  was  that  he  did  not  know  Leipzig. 

Nakaam's  topographical  knowledge  was,  like  Moritz's,  of  a 
purely  theoretic  nature,  and  it  only  went  as  far  as  Berlin. 
But  what  an  intense  interest  this  man  took  in  every  possible 
detail  of  a  European  town  !  He  wanted  to  know  the  length  of 
the  streets,  the  height  of  the  houses,  and  how  one  could  ascend 
such  towers  as  they  seemed  to  be,  and  how  many  people  lived 
in  one  house,  where  they  cooked  their  food,  and  a  hundred 
other  things.  For  me,  with  my  scanty  Swahili  vocabulary,  it 
was,  of  course,  quite  impossible  to  satisfy  this  thirst  for  in- 
formation to  its  fullest  extent,  and  I  was  the  more  grateful 
to  Knudsen  for  his  help. 

Next  day  we  marched  to  a  God-forsaken  hole  called 
Mkululu,  not  as  yet  marked  on  any  map.  The  miserable  huts 
here  were  a  complete  contrast  to  Nakaam's  house,  and  the 
village  square  and  haraza  were  dirty  and  neglected.  Both 
had  to  be  thoroughly  cleaned  before  we  could  have  our  tents 
Ditched  close  to  the  rest-house.  Yet  we  were  compelled  to 
be  grateful  to  the  fate  which  had  instinctively  as  it  were 
directed  our  steps  to  the  shelter  of  its  thatched  roof.  The  gale 
which  had  spoilt  our  evenings  at  Mwiti  arose  here  likewise, 
soon  after  sunset.  It  would  have  been  absolutely  impossible  to 
remain  out  of  doors  with  such  a  quantity  of  dust,  leaves. 


A  MISERABLE  NIGHT 


127 


grass  and  twigs  whirling  through  the  air.  Even  under  the 
h:irazci  it  was  unendurable,  so  there  was  nothing  for  it  but 
to  make  for  our  tents  and  get  into  our  warm  beds.  Alas  ! 
this  adjective  did  not  apply,  and  all  efforts  to  get  warm,  even 
with  the  help  of  a  second  camel's  hair  blanket,  were  vain, 
I  shivered  with  cold  and  my  teeth  chattered  so  that  at  intervals 
they  vs'ere  audible  above  the  roaring  of  the  gale.  This  roaring 
became  louder  and  more  formidable  every  quarter  of  an 
hour,  and,  thinking  that  the  chill  I  felt  was  merely  due  to  the 
usual  fall  of  temperature  in  the  evening,  I  got  up  to  make  the 
tent  a  little  more  weather-tight.  Though  I  did  not  even  get 
outside,  I  w^as  sincerely  thankful  to  return  to  its  shelter.  The 
world  outside  was  given  up  to  a  veritable  witches'  sabbath. 
Howling,  shrieking  and  whistling,  the  storm,  carrying  wdth  it 
dense  clouds  of  dust  and  rubbish,  raged  round  my  tent  ;  and 
the  moment  I  attempted  to  set  foot  out  of  doors  the  whirlwind 
seized  me  in  its  embrace.  At  the  same  time  an  incessant  crash- 
ing of  falling  trees  and  breaking  branches,  some  of  them,  to 
judge  by  the  sound,  of  considerable  size,  went  on  all  round  us. 
I  never  closed  an  eye  during  this  night  :  the  cold  fit  soon  yielded 
to  a  violent  perspiration,  and  only  the  inexorable  necessity  of 
marching  on  got  me  out  of  bed  in  the  early  morning. 

I  should  prefer  to  say  nothing  about  the  forced  march 
from  Mkululu  to  Chingulungulu,  as  I  must  have  played  but 
a  sorry  part  that  day  in  the  eyes  of  our  followers.  Knudsen, 
too,  was  suffering  from  fever.  In  the  early  morning,  while  the 
air  was  still  cool  and  the  bush  fresh  and  green,  it  was  not  so 
bad,  though  riding  w^as  out  of  the  question.  Our  w^ay  now 
ran  close  under  the  western  edge  of  the  Makonde  plateau, 
through  an  area  of  deep  sedimentary  deposits,  and  at  the  same 
time  of  numerous  springs.  Consequently,  every  few  hundred 
yards,  the  caravan  found  itself  on  the  edge  of  a  deep  ravine 
with  almost  vertical  sides,  excavated  by  a  stream  in  the  loose 
soil.  With  unsteady  feet  one  stumbles  down  the  steep  de- 
chvity,  and  only  succeeds  in  scrambling  up  the  other  side  by 
straining  every  muscle  and  nerve  in  the  fever-weakened 
body.  After  this  has  happened  more  than  a  dozen  times, 
the  guide  turns  off  the  path  to  the  right  and  disappears  in  the 
bush.  This  now  becomes  more  and  more  open  the  farther 
we  leave  the  escarpment  of  the  plateau  behind  us,  and  at 


128 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


last  it  is  the  typical  "  open  tree  and  grass  steppe  :  "  every  tree 
exactly  like  every  other;  fresh  foliage  only  at  intervals  ;  under- 
wood also  rare,  but  thorny  where  it  occurs;  grass  in  most 
places  already  burnt  off.  Where  this  is  the  case,  an  impene- 
trable cloud  of  ashes,  stirred  up  by  local  whirlwinds,  and  still 
more  by  the  steps  of  our  party,  circles  round  us  in  the  glowing 
heat  of  noon,  covering  everything  with  a  thick  layer  of  black 
dust.    I  have  long  ago  dropped  the  reins  on  the  mule's  neck, 


GROUND  PLAN  OF  HUT 


and  he  has  twice,  in  his  innate  apathy  and  determination  to 
keep  a  straight  course,  run  into  a  thornbush,  so  that  I  had  to 
let  myself  fall  off  him  backwards,  whether  I  liked  it  or  not. 
At  last  the  Yao  chief  Zuza's  stately  house  came  into  view, 
and  a  few  minutes  later  we  and  our  men  lay  panting  in  its 
shade. 

The  strength  of  will  of  a  civilized  man  is  after  all  something 
to  be  proud  of.  In  spite  of  our  wretched  condition,  Knudsen 
and  I  could  scarcely  hold  out  five  minutes  on  our  camp  stools, 
before  we  entered  Zuza's  house  and  began  to  ask  questions, 
sketch  and  collect.  It  proved  a  very  good  opportunity,  for 
Zuza  seems  not  only  to  be  personally  quite  a  unique  repre- 
sentative of  his  race,  but  his  house  is  arranged  in  a 
v/ay  one  would  never  expect  from  a  native.    He  himself, 


THE  YAO  CHIEF,  ZUZA 


129 


with  his  long  black  beard  and  intelligent  face,  is  well  and 
cleanly  dressed  in  white  calico,  and  his  house  is  high,  with  an 
unusually  neat  and  clean  plastering  of  clay,  light  and  airy. 
The  hearth  is  really,  in  its  way,  a  small  work  of  art ;  the  usual 
three  stones  rest  on  a  raised  clay  platform  about  a  yard  wide, 
close  to  the  wall  and  occupying  the  whole  width  of  the  kitchen. 
All  round  the  fire  itself  is  a  series  of  very  curious  clay  stands, 
by  their  shape  evidently  intended  for  supports  to  the  round- 
bottomed  pots.    In  Zuza's  own  sleeping  apartment  we  see — 


zuza's  couch  and  fireplace 


not  indeed  a  European  sofa,  such  as  every  Kamerun  native  has 
in  his  hut  (I  am  thankful  to  see  that  the  East  Africans  have 
not  yet  advanced  so  far) — but  the  prototype  of  all  couches : 
a  clay  platform,  about  a  foot  high  and  something  over  a  yard 
wide,  with  bevelled  edges,  and  an  inclined  plane  at  the  upper 
end,  to  rest  the  head  and  shoulders  on,  the  whole  being  covered 
with  beautifully-made  clean  mats. 

Yet  even  a  man  like  Zuza  cannot  change  his  skin.  After 
inspecting  every  part  of  the  interior,  we  walked  round  the 
house;  and  I  noticed  an  object  hanging  from  a  stick  fixed 
under  the  eaves,  strongly  resembling  a  large  sausage.  It  was 
the  fruit  of  the  Kigelia,  which  is  called  by  Europeans  the 
"  German  sausage  tree,"  though  its  resemblance  to  a  sausage 
ends  with  its  appearance.  Zuza,  after  some  hesitation,  ex- 
plained that  this  fruit  was  dawa — a  medicine  or  a  charm, 
or  whatever  is  the  proper  name  for  such  a  preservative.  Its 

9— (2131) 


130  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


task  was  no  easy  one,  and  consisted  in  protecting  the  house 
against  the  whirlwinds  which  habituahy  blow  here  with  such 
violence  that  it  is  said  they  frequently  carry  away  the  roofs 
of  huts.  What  association  of  ideas  led  these  people  to  attribute 
to  this  inoffensive  fruit  the  power  of  vanquishing  Nature  in 
her  strongest  manifestations,  Zuza  could  not  or  would  not 
inform  me. 

Not  only  our  halt  at  this  place,  but  the  preceding  march 


denly  I  heard  shouts  whose  import  resembled  the  coarse  witticisms 
uttered  by  our  soldiers  at  home  when  any  being  of  the  female  sex 
passes  within  earshot  of  a  company.  In  fact,  when  I  looked,  I  saw 
a  young  woman  trying  to  avoid  the  group  of  strangers  by 
making  a  circuit  of  twenty  or  thirty  yards.  This  in  itself 
was  nothing  particularly  exciting,  but  suddenly  my  men, 
who  have  long  ago  discovered  what  interests  me,  shouted  all 
together,'' Kipim,bw ana  f"  ("The nose-pin, sir! ")  In  another 
second,  some  of  them  had  brought  the  fair  one  before  me. 
She  had,  in  fact,  an  exceptionally  fine  specimen  of  an  ebony 
stud  in  her  left  nostril,  inlaid  with  tin  if  possible  still  more 
prettily  and  gracefully  than  usual.  At  first  she  flatly  refused 
all  offers  to  purchase,  but  in  the  end  the  fear  of  so  many  strange 
men,  wild-looking  ones,  too,  seemed  to  be  more  effectual  than 


YAO  WOMEN  WITH  NOSE-STUDS 


through  the  bush 
gave  me  the  oppor- 
tunity for  one  or 
two  interesting  ob- 
servations. We  had 
halted  for  breakfast 
at  a  comparatively 
green  spot  in  the 
bush — my  caravan 
lying  on  the  ground 
in  picturesque  con- 
fusion, Knudsen  and 
I  seated  somewhat 
apart,  as  my  olfac- 
tory nerves  were  at 
this  stage  of  the 
fever  more  sensitive 
than  usual.  Sud- 


THE  SENSE  OF  MODESTY 


131 


even  the  lustre  of  a  quarter-rupee.  Hesitatingly  she  put  her 
left  hand  to  her  nose,  the  right  following  almost  instantaneously. 
She  must  have  taken  out  the  kipini  with  a  dexterous  pressure 
of  the  former,  for  the  next  moment  she  was  already  handing 
over  the  ornament,  while  all  the  time,  with  an  inexplicable 
shyness  and  persistency,  she  kept  her  nose  covered  so  that 
the  process  of  extraction  was  quite  invisible.  Even  long  after 
receiving  her  piece  of  silver,  she  still  held  her  hand  to  her  face, 
in  spite  of  a  renewed  fire  of  jokes  from  my  men.  Undoubtedly 
the  removal  of  the  kipini  is  felt  to  be  a  breach  of  modesty, 
hence  the  instinctive  concealment  of  the  exposed  spot. 

Such  a  displacement,  as  we  may  call  it,  of  the  sense  of 
modesty  is  nothing  rare  in  ethnography.  It  is  a  never-failing 
delight  to  me  to  re-read  the  passage  in  what  I  may  call  my 
Bible,  viz.,  Peschel's  Volkerkunde,  where  the  author  describes 
the  feelings  of  a  pious  Muslim  from  Ferghana  if  he  were  to  be 
present  at  a  European  ball.  Peschel  thinks  that  the  bare 
shoulders  of  our  wives  and  daughters,  the  quasi-embraces  of 
our  round  dances,  would  fill  him  with  silent  wonder  at  the  long- 
suffering  of  Allah,  who  has  not  yet  rained  down  fire  and 
brimstone  on  this  sinful  and  shameless  generation.  It  is  quite 
consistent  with  the  same  views  that  the  Arab  woman  should 
bare  her  foot,  leg  or  bosom  without  embarrassment,  while  to 
let  anyone  see  the  back  of  the  head  is  supposed  to  be  still  more 
indecent  than  the  exposure  of  the  face,  carefully  as  the  latter  is 
hidden.  Still  more  divergent  from  our  ideas  are  those  of  the 
Chinese,  who  would  think  it  the  height  of  immodesty  for  a 
woman  to  show  a  man  her  deformed  foot,  of  which,  in  fact,  it  is 
improper  even  to  speak.  If  we  were  in  this  way  to  make  a 
survey  of  the  whole  world,  we  should  encounter  an  immeasur- 
able mass  of  the  most  various  and,  according  to  our  ideas,  the 
strangest  notions  as  to  what  is  proper  and  improper.  Our 
own  views  on  this  point  are  only  a  single  item  in  a  long  series, 
and  they  have  no  better  foundation  than  any  of  the  rest ; 
for  all  these  opinions  have  this  in  common  as  regards  their 
origin,  that  nothing  appears  reprehensible  or  objectionable 
a  priori.  Only  after  a  definite  view  has  been  formed  as  to 
which  parts  of  the  body  are  to  be  covered  and  which  left 
uncovered,  a  breach  of  the  rule  becomes  an  act  to  be 
reprobated — not  before. 


132 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


infant's  grave  (makua) 


The  other  observation  is  of  a  more  serious  nature.  While 
riding  through  the  pori,  half  dozing  in  the  heat,  I  suddenly 
found  myself  nearly  thrown  out  of  the  saddle,  and  saw,  on 
recovering  ni}^  balance,  that  my  mule  had  shied  at  a  mysterious 
object  rising  obliquely  from  the  ground.  This  on  closer 
inspection  resolved  itself  into  a  bark  cylinder  half  buried  in 
the  earth.  The  thing  is  about  half-a-yard  in  length  and 
closed  at  the  uncovered  upper  end  with  two  or  three  slabs  of 
bark  stuck  into  the  ground  in  front  of  the  opening.  None 
of  our  men  knew  what  to  make  of  this,  but  some  local  natives 

happening     to  come 
'\    I,  \u  ^  X  along  at  the  time,  ex- 


grave  of  a  still-born 
child.  The  Makua,  it 
appears,  always  bury 
them  in  this  fashion. 

After  a  short  rest  at 
Zuza's,  we  started  once 
m.ore  in  order  to  reach 
Chingulungulu  the  same  day.  On  the  march,  Knudsen 
and  I  were  again  attacked  by  fever.  I  could  only 
maintain  myself  in  the  saddle  by  convulsively  clinging  on, 
and  Knudsen  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  keeping  on  his 
feet.  We  could  see  no  end  to  the  deadly  monotony  of  the 
open  scrub  gliding  past  us,  tree  after  tree.  I  had  lost  all  feeling 
in  my  legs  ;  the  incessant  throbbing  and  hammering  in  my 
skull  amounted  to  torture  ;  and  the  misery  of  our  progress 
lengthened  out  the  hours  seemingly  to  infinit3%  so  that  I  caught 
myself  looking  at  my  watch  every  few  minutes. 

At  length  there  appears  a  fixed  point  in  the  boundless  ocean 
of  trees  ;  a  fallen  giant  blocks  our  path.  The  Norwegian  sinks 
down  on  it  like  a  log,  and  only  by  long-continued  persuasion 
can  I  induce  him  to  make  a  fresh  start.  We  struggle  on  once 
more,  till  suddenly  a  confused  murmur  of  voices  breaks  on  the 
ear.  As  if  through  a  haze  I  recognize  Matola,  whom  I  have 
already  met  at  Masasi,  surrounded  by  a  number  of  men  dressed 
in  w^hite  ;  they  keep  on  bowing  solemnly,  while  I  smile  and 
wave  my  hand.  We  come  to  a  house  with  many  pillars.  I 
dismount  with  infinite  trouble,  my  teeth  chattering  in  spite  of 


MY  FIRST  FEVER 


133 


the  almost  vertical  sun.  With  a  pleasant  smile,  Matola  places 
his  pillared  mansion  at  my  disposal  and  offers  me  a  jug  of 
deliciously  cool  milk.  My  thoughts  are  not  fixed  on  material 
enjoyments — I  want  nothing  but  rest  and  darkness.  My 
eye  seeks  Knudsen  and  finds  him  just  as  he  vanishes  staggering 
into  the  tent  the  men  have  hastily  set  up.  Two  minutes  later 
I,  too,  am  wrapped  in  a  couple  of  warm  camel's  hair  blankets, 
to  m}^  inexpressible  comfort  !  And  now  here  goes  for  my 
first  fever. 

Note. — It  is  a  little  surprising  to  find  Dr.  Weule  complaining  (see 
p.  108)  that  he  should  have  been  unable,  in  a  stay  of  less  than  a  fortnight, 
to  get  at  the  psychology  of  the  native.  His  disappointment  at  Matola's, 
in  the  next  chapter,  (p.  139)  seems  even  less  reasonable,  and  it  seems 
strange  that  he  should  have  expected  to  get  information  on  subjects  of 
which  natives  are  never  very  eager  to  talk,  by  means  of  direct  leading 
questions.  This,  quite  apart  from  the  fact  that,  by  his  own  admission, 
his  methods  were  not  always  conciliatory. — [Tr.] 


MATOLA's  COMPurXD 


CHAPTER  VIII 

AT  MATOLA's 
Chingulungulu,  middle  of  August,  1906. 

With  all  its  evils,  a  downright  good  fever  has  one  advantage, — 
when  it  is  over  the  convalescent  has  such  an  appetite  that 
"  eating  "  is  far  too  mild  a  term  to  apply  to  the  process  of 
gratifying  it.  In  this  state  of  health  a  whole  roast  fowi  is 
just  about  enough  for  a  breakfast,  that  is  if  it  has  been  pre- 
ceded by  a  large  plate  of  tinned  soup  and  is  to  be  followed  by 
a  still  larger  omelette  with  bananas.  But  when  this  stage  is 
reached  the  patient  is  well  on  the  way  to  recovery,  and  soon 
begins  to  enjo}^  his  cigar,  which,  according  to  Wilhelm  Busch,  ^ 
is  the  surest  test  of  fitness.  Onty  a  certain  feeling  as  if  the 
brain  did  not  quite  fill  its  allotted  space  and  therefore  broke 
in  waves  at  the  edges  every  time  you  move  your  head,  remains 
for  some  days  as  an  unpleasant  reminder  of  the  attack. 

"  Reahty  "  versus  "  Dream,"  or  "  Prose  "  versus  "  Poetry," 
might  be  a  very  good  name  for  the  famous  Chingulungulu. 
One  would  need  to  have  lived  for  ten  3^ears  in  the  bush,  like 
Nils  Knudsen,  to  look  on  this  emporium  of  mud,  dirt,  and  dust 
as  the  paradise  which  he  still  honestly  believes  it  to  be.  Of 
course  we  have  taken  up  our  abode  in  the  famous  baraza, 
which  is,  in  fact,  quite  a  handsome  building.  True,  it  is 
nothing  but  a  thatched  roof  supported  on  posts  ;  but  it  is  no 

1  A  well-known  German  humorist,  one  of  the  principal  contributors 
to  Fliegende  Blatter. 


MATOLA'S  BARAZA 


135 


less  than  sixteen  yards  across,  and  the  ridge  of  the  roof  is  at 
least  twenty  feet  from  the  floor.  It  is  no  contemptible  achieve- 
ment as  regards  architecture  ;  the  posts  are  arranged  in  three 
concentric  circles  round  the  central  pillar,  and  the  floor  is  of 
beaten  clay  mixed  with  ashes.  To  bring  it  to  the  proper  degree 
of  firmness  and  smoothness  they  use  a  wooden  beater,  bent 
into  an  obtuse  angle  and  ending  in  a  broad,  flat  surface. 
A  raised  ledge,  about  fifteen  inches  high,  and  broken  by  three 
openings  at  angles  of  120°,  runs  round  the  building.  This 
represents  the  seats  of  the  "  thingmen,"  for  the  haraza  is  in 
fact  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  parliament-house  of  the 
village  elders.  The  chief  sits  in  the  middle  of  the  spacious 
building,  and  round  him  in  a  serried  throng  squat,  sit,  or  stand 
his  black  fellow-citizens.  Every  native  vihage  has  such  a 
baraza,  but  the  Chingulungulu  one  is  the  most  famous  of  all. 
]\Iatola  is  naturally  not  a  little  proud  of  being  able  to  lodge  his 
guests  in  so  distinguished  a  building. 

But  even  his  private  residence  is  a  notable  feat  of  archi- 
tecture. It  is  surrounded,  like  all  other  houses,  b}^  a  verandah, 
the  ground  under  the  wide  eaves  being  raised  a  few  inches  out 
of  the  wet.  Here  Matola  holds  his  court  every  day  and  all 
day  long,  which  is  interesting,  but  hardly  agreeable,  as  far 
as  I  am  concerned,  since  the  auditorium  is  hardly  thirty  yards 
from  my  seat,  and  native  voices  are  little  accustomed  to 
restraint.  And  when  the  women  take  part  in  the  general  dis- 
cussion, or  conduct  their  own  defence  in  a  trial,  the  noise 
becomes  appalling. 

The  interior  of  Matola's  house  is  scarcely  in  keeping  with 
its  spacious  dimensions.  The  whole  front  is  taken  up  by  what 
Matola  calls  his  evening  baraza,  a  long  narrow  apartment, 
into  which  the  inmates  of  the  house  and  their  friends  with- 
draw on  wet  or  stormy  evenings.  The  furniture  consists  of 
a  single  kitanda,  or  coast-fashion  bedstead.  The  rest  of  the 
house  is  occupied  by  three  rooms  of  about  fifteen  feet  by  fifteen 
each.  The  two  lateral  ones  are  intended  for  sleeping-rooms, 
as  shown  by  a  couple  of  bedsteads  and  large  heaps  of  ashes, 
the  remains  of  the  fire  which  every  native  keeps  up  beside  his 
couch  at  night.  These  rooms  are  only  accessible  through 
doors  leading  from  the  central  one,  windowless,  and  therefore 
pitch  dark.    The  central  room  serves  as  a  kitchen,  but  how 


136 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


elementary  and  primitive  is  Matola's  hearth  compared  with 
Zuza's  !  The  latter  has  a  substructure  for  the  system  of 
cooking-stones,  pots  and  other  culinary  appurtenances,  which 
is  quite  correct  in  material  and  workmanship,  while  at  Matola's 
there  is  nothing  but  a  chaos  of  ashes,  in  the  midst  of  which  two 
or  three  lumps,  as  big  as  a  man's  head,  of  earth  from  an  ant- 
heap  indicate  where  the  royal  meals  are  prepared.  At  the 
same  time  this  Yao  chief  has  the  reputation  of  being  a  wealthy 
man,  as  wealth  goes  in  Africa,  and  of  having  great  hoards  of 
bright  silver  rupees  hidden  somewhere  about  his  huts. 


BEER-DRINKING 

Matola's  compound,  however,  is  rather  more  interesting. 
On  my  first  visit  to  him,  he  was  somewhat  embarrassed,  being 
obviously  ashamed  of  the  shabbiness  of  his  interior  ;  but  he 
took  me  over  his  back  premises  with  evident  pride,  for  which 
indeed  he.  had  ample  justification.  The  back  verandah  is 
occupied  by  an  unbroken  row  of  food-stores  of  the  most  diverse 
sizes  and  shapes.  Here  we  find  beehive-shaped  receptacles 
about  six  feet  high  for  millet  and  maize,  and  cylindrical  ones, 
of  nearly  equal  height  for  ground-nuts,  beans  and  peas  ;  while 
in  the  dark  spaces  between  them  the  eye  after  a  while  makes 
out  small  bark  boxes  or  earthen  jars  containing  less  important 
vegetabje  products.  All  these  receptacles  are  thickly  plastered 
with  clay,  to  protect  them  from  vermin  and  weather.  If  we 
turn  to  the  back  of  the  large  rectangular  compound,  where  a 
high  palisade  keeps  out  unauthorised  intruders,  we  again  find 
proof  of  a  very  far-seeing  and  prudent  economy,  for  here,  too, 
everything  is  arranged  in  order  to  make  the  crops  of  the 


MATOLA'S  FARMYARD 


137 


current  year  last  over  till  the  next  harvest.  Large  and  small 
food-stores  are  ranged  round  it,  and  in  the  centre  is  a  large 
granary,  on  whose  ground  floor,  so  to  speak,  some  women  are 
busy  at  a  fireplace,  while  the  whole  roof-space  is  filled  with 
heads  of  millet  and  cobs  of  maize.  And  if  we  step  outside 
Matola's  compound  on  the  eastern  side,  there  is  a  scaffolding 
some  seven  or  eight  feet  high  and  about  as  wide  running  along 
the  whole  length  of  the  palisade.  On  this,  in  spite  of  the 
lateness  of  the  season,  large  quantities  of  grain  just  harvested 
are  drying  in  the  sun.  And,  lastly,  walking  round  the  estate 
to  the  west  side  of  the  house,  we  come  face  to  face  with  a 
granary  of  truly  gigantic  size,  and  without  doubt  of  very 
rational  construction,  which  is  shown  in  the  illustration 
at  the  head  of  this  chapter.  Like  all  the  other  food-stores, 
this  granary  is  built  on  piles  ;  but,  while  in  the  usual  form 
the  scaffolding  is  only  about  two  feet  high,  and  from  three 
to  five  feet  square,  it  is  in  this  case  between  ten  and  twelve 
feet  high  and  at  least  ten  feet  across.  On  this  platform 
rests  the  granary  itself,  which  in  shape  can  best  be  compared 
to  a  brewer's  mash-tub.  Just  now  it  is  only  half  full  of  millet, 
and  therefore  not  yet  closed,  and  the  whole  is  covered  in  with 
the  usual  wide-eaved,  heavy,  thatched  roof.  Access  to  this 
marvel  of  architecture  and  economic  science  is  gained  by  the 
same  kind  of  antediluvian  ladder  which  excited  my  risible 
faculties  at  Masasi — two  strong  gnarled  logs,  with  a  couple  of 
wretched  sticks  tied  across  them — not  too  firmly — a  yard  apart. 

Matola,  however,  saved  up  the  most  striking  feature  of  his 
whole  farm  till  the  last.  Grunts  and  squeaks  expressive  of  the 
utmost  well-being  were  heard  proceeding  from  the  shadows 
about  a  gloomy  structure  which  was  described  to  me  as  a 
prison.  A  prison  in  Africa  ?  Certainly  ;  the  native  is  not 
an  angel,  and  when  he  is  on  the  chain-gang  he  must  have  some 
shelter  at  night.  But  for  the  present  we  were  more  interested 
m  the  origin  of  the  above  sounds,  which  proved  to  proceed 
from  a  sow  with  twelve  piglings.  This  merry  company,  we 
soon  found,  was  all  over  the  place,  examining  the  baggage 
of  the  askari,  calhng  on  Nils  Knudsen  in  his  tent,  but  most 
persistent  of  all  in  visiting  our  kitchen  after  dinner  and  helping 
the  cook  and  his  boy  to  clean  up  our  dishes.  Every  facility 
is  afforded  them  for  this  pursuit,  as,  in  the  first  place,  our 


138 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


kitchen  is  only  a  sheltered  corner  under  the  eaves  of  the 
prison,  and  in  the  second,  when  a  native  has  eaten  his  fill 
and  is  lying  spread-eagled  on  the  ground  snoring  through 
his  siesta,  you  might  cut  him  to  pieces  at  your  leisure  without 
waking  him.  Thus  every  afternoon  witnesses  the  remarkable 
spectacle  of  a  khaki-clad  European,  uttering  frantic  vitupera- 
tions of  the  lazy  black  villains  and  their  whole  continent, 
as  he  rushes  across  the  square  of  Chingulungulu  brandishing 
a  kiboko,  to  drive  the  affectionate  mother  and  her  family 
away  from  his  cooking-pots.  Of  course,  whenever  this  takes 
place,  the  careless  kitchen-staff  comes  in  for  a  few  blows  in 
passing,  but  my  beloved  Omari  cares  very  little  for  that. 
Knudsen  and  I  have  vowed  vengeance  on  the  pigs,  to 
the  effect  that  they  shall  indeed  find  their  way  into  our 
cooking-pots  one  day,  whether  they  like  it  or  not. 

How  Matola  obtained  these  pigs,  so  rare  a  sight  in  a  Moslem 
country  (for  as  such  we  must  count  this  district),  I  have  not  yet 
heard,  but  I  assume  that  he  got  them,  like  his  herd  of  cattle, 
from  the  English  Mission.  The  cattle  are  sheltered  in  a  kraal 
immediately  adjoining  his  dwelling-house — a  mere  enclosure  of 
stakes  into  which  the  animals  are  driven  soon  after  sunset,  to 
leave  it  the  next  morning  after  the  dew  is  off  the  grass.  They 
are  herded  by  several  boys,  and  number  about  twenty  head, 
all  of  the  humped  breed,  and  most  of  them  evidently  suffering 
from  the  tsetse  disease.  Only  one  young  bull  and  a  couple  of 
cows  look  healthy  and  vigorous,  and  are  playful  enough  to 
put  some  life  into  the  whole  mournful  company.  I  am  glad 
to  see  some  milch  cows  among  them — in  fact  it  is  they  who 
provide  the  jar  Matola  sends  me  every  morning. 

This  is  Matola's  residence  in  the  more  immediate  sense. 
The  best  way  to  become  acquainted  with  his  whole  territory 
is  to  mount  and  ride  over  it,  for  Chingulungulu  is  a  settlement 
of  extraordinary  extent.  Broad  roads,  as  straight  as  a  rule 
can  make  them,  and  planted  with  rubber-trees,  run  north,  east 
and  west  from  the  square  surrounding  the  haraza.  To  right 
and  left  of  these  roads  hes  a  vast  expanse  of  fields,  from  which 
emerges  here  and  there  the  greyish-brown  roof  of  a  hut, 
larger  or  smaller  as  the  case  may  be.  During  the  whole  of  my 
stay  here  at  Matola's,  I  have  been  doing  my  best  to  get 
acquainted  with  all  the  details  of  this  negro  settlement,  and  I 


THE  IMMIGRANT  YAOS 


139 


must  confess  that  the  charms  of  this  occupation  have  so  far 
consoled  me  for  an  evil  which  under  other  circumstances  would 
long  ago  have  disgusted  me  with  the  place.  By  this  I  mean 
the  difficulty  of  obtaining  information  as  to  the  more  intimate 
customs,  habits  and  opinions  of  the  people,  and  thus  penetrating 
as  deeply  as  I  certainly  wish  to  do,  into  their  intellectual  and 
moral  life.  At  Masasi  the  epidemic  conviviality  of  the  whole 
male  population  was  a  totally  unforeseen  impediment  to  this 
object,  and  here  at  Chingulungulu  it  seems  either  that  Matola 
has  not  sufficient  influence  to  obtain  wise  men  for  me  to 
question,  or  that  he  does  not  care  to  reveal  the  wisdom  of  his 
people  to  a  stranger.  It  is  true  that  he  possesses  a  good  deal 
of  information  himself,  and  has  already  on  more  than  one 
occasion  sat  with  us  and  talked  about  the  history  of  his  tribe, 
but  whenever  I  particularly  want  him,  he  is  not  to  be  found, 
and  we  are  told  that  he  is  hunting  on  the  Rovuma. 

From  an  anthropological  point  of  view  the  population  here, 
in  the  political  centre  of  the  great  plain  between  the  Masasi 
mountains  and  the  Rovuma,  is  as  heterogeneous  as  at  Masasi 
itself,  only  that  down  here  the  Wayao  are  not 'merely  at  present 
numerically  in  the  majority,  but  politically  supreme  over  their 
neighbours.  These  are,  as  in  the  north,  Makua,  Wangindo, 
Wamatambwe  and  Makonde,  and,  here  as  there,  the  various 
tribes  live  side  by  side  according  to  no  fixed  rule.  The 
history  of  the  Yaos,  up  to  the  time  when  they  settled  and 
came  to  rest  in  this  plain,  is  full  enough  of  change  and  adven- 
ture. For  a  long  time — from  the  moment  when  they  first 
became  known  to  Europeans,  almost  to  the  present  day,  they 
were  unhesitatingly  reckoned  as  belonging  to  the  Kafir  family. 
As,  like  the  Wangoni,  and  almost  simultaneously  with  them, 
they  migrated  from  south  to  north— that  is  to  say,  from  the 
region  east  of  the  Shire  and  south  end  of  Nyasa  to  the  Rovuma 
and  Lujende,  and  as  they  at  the  same  time  showed  equal  fresh- 
ness and  physical  vigour  with  those  warlike  hosts  from  the  far 
south-east  of  the  continent,  it  was  natural  that  they  should  be 
considered  as  immigrants  from  sub-tropical  South  Africa,  in 
other  words,  Kafirs.  This  view  is  now  known  to  be  erroneous  ; 
their  language  obviously  belongs  to  the  group  of  Eastern  Bantu 
idioms,  and  it  is  quite  clear  that  they  have  nothing  to  do  with 
the  southern  extremity  of  Africa. 


140  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


If  we  get  the  history  of  this  people  related  to  us  by  men  who 
are  either  old  enough  to  remember  several  of  the  many  decades 
over  which  the  tribal  wanderings  extended,  or  else,  hke  Zuza, 
Matola  and  Nakaam,  hold  a  position  which  makes  them  by 
riglit  of  birth  transmitters  of  the  tribal  tradition, — we  always 
find  the  region  east  of  the  south  end  of  Nyasa  mentioned  as  the 
starting  point  of  all  these  (mostly  involuntary)  migrations. 

A  couple  of  aged  Yaos,  whom  we  had  summoned,  inde- 
pendently of  Matola,  through  the  agency  of  two  or  three  sturdy 
askari,  gave  me  the  following  report  : — "  Once,  long  ago,  the 
Yaos  lived  at  Kwisale  Kuchechepungu.  Kuchechepungu  is  the 
name  of  the  chief  under  whom  they  lived  at  peace  in  the  hill- 
country  of  Kwisale.  Then  there  befel  a  war  in  which  the 
Yaos  were  beaten,  and  they  went  to  the  country  of  the  Makua 
chief  Mtarika.  But  that  is  very  long  ago  ;  I,  Akundonde  (the 
spokesman  of  this  historical  commission)  only  know  it  from 
men  older  than  myself. 

"  At  Mtarika's  also  the  Yaos  fared  badly,  for  this  powerful 
Makua  chief  made  w^ar  on  them  and  drove  them  out.  And 
they  went  to  Malambo,  which  lies  behind  Mkula.  At  Malambo 
the  Yaos  remained  for  a  long  time,  but  at  last  they  were  driven 
thence  by  the  same  Mtarika  ;  then  they  settled  near  the 
Lumesule  river  in  the  Donde  country,  and  from  thence  they 
afterwards  went  on  to  Masasi." 

This  took  place  when  Akundonde  was  a  big  lad.  As  the  old 
gentleman  must  be  some  years  over  sixty,  this  march  into  the 
Masasi  plain  must  be  dated  towards  the  end  of  the  fifties.  At 
Masasi  the  Yaos  were  attacked  by  the  Wangoni,  but  defeated 
them  and  drove  them  back  in  the  direction  of  Kilwa  Kivinja. 
In  spite  of  this  success,  the  Yaos  retired  to  the  greater  security 
of  the  Makonde  plateau.  Here  they  were  once  more  attacked 
by  the  Wangoni  at  Mahuta,  but  this  was  in  the  time  of  the 
elder  Matola.  After  that  Bakiri  came  from  Zanzibar,  and  this 
was  the  beginning  of  an  entirely  new  epoch. 

This  Bakiri  of  Zanzibar  and  his  appearance  on  the  Rovuma 
show  unmistakably  how  little  we  know,  at  bottom,  of  the  native 
and  his  history.  Herr  Ewerbeck  has  resided  in  the  country 
over  ten  years,  and  has  always  taken  a  keen  interest  in  the 
history  of  his  district  ;  but  he  never  heard  anything  more 
than  vague  rumours  of  an  embassy  from  the  Sultan  of  Zanzibar. 


142 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


All  the  more  vivid  is  the  recollection  of  this  event  among 
those  concerned,  in  the  country  itself.  In  the  case  of  Akundonde 
and  his  contemporaries,  who  must  have  been  grown-up  men 
at  the  time,  this  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  ;  but  even  Matola 
and  his  generation,  who  were  then  mere  children,  or  perhaps 
not  even  born,  at  once  become  excited  when  the  conversation 
turns  on  Bakiri  (already  somewhat  of  a  legendary  character), 
and  his  memorable  march. 

This  expedition,  which,  according  to  information  elicited  by 
Ewerbeck's  inquiries,  had  for  its  objective  the  coal  measures 
of  the  Lujende,  the  great  southern  tributary  of  the  Rovuma, 
has  in  the  consciousness  of  the  local  tribes  entirely  lost  its 
character  as  a  journey,  and  has  assumed  that  of  the  shauri 
familiar  to  and  characteristic  of  all  these  tribes.  But  this 
shauri — this  assembly  of  all  the  local  notables  and  their  tribes- 
men— has  fixed  itself  indelibly  in  the  people's  memory.  It  is 
the  famous  shauri  of  Nkunya,  a  place  still  in  existence  at  the 
south-western  corner  of  the  Makonde  plateau.  Matola  the 
Younger  gives  the  following  account  of  its  causes,  its  course, 
and  its  consequences  : — 

"  The  Yaos  in  old  times  lived  much  further  away  to  the 
west  and  south,  but  they  were  badly  off  there.  The  old  Makua 
chief  Mtarika  of  ^letho  made  war  on  them,  and  when  he  was 
gone  the  Mazitu  came  from  the  other  side  and  also  made  war 
on  them.  The}^  killed  or  enslaved  the  men  of  the  Yaos  and 
carried  off  the  women  and  children.  This  happened  when  old 
Matola  was  quite  a  young  man.  Now  he  would  be  very  old, 
if  he  were  still  living ;  but  he  died  twelve  years  ago,  at  a  great 
age,  but  still  quite  strong.  ^ 

"  In  the  end  Matola  had  to  fly  ;  he  went  first  to  the  Upper 
Bangala  and  then  down  that  river  till  he  was  three  hours' 
march  from  the  Rovuma,  where  his  second  brother  died.  At 
this  place  Matola  was  only  a  small  chief,  for  he  had  in  all  only 
five  huts.    But  he  was  brave  and  clever,  he  raided  other  tribes 

1  This  is  the  Matola  who  welcomed  the  U.M.C.A.  missionaries  to 
Xewala,  in  1877,  and  of  whom  the  late  Bishop  ^Maples  said  :  "  He  is 
without  exception  the  most  intelligent  and  the  most  pleasing  African 
I  know.  He  has  many  excellent  qualities,  and  withal  an  amount  of 
energy  that  is  rare  in  that  part  of  the  world.  He  has  a  fund  of  informa- 
tion about  the  people,  the  country,  and  the  languages,  of  which  he 
can  speak  six."    ]VIatola  died  at  Newala  in  October,  1895. — [Tr.] 


MATOLA'S  WANDERINGS 


143 


and  was  also  a  great  hunter,  who  killed  much  game  and  ex- 
changed the  meat  for  corn.    From  the  Lower  Bangala,  Matola 
moved  to  the  Newala  River  and  built  his  huts  down  in  the 
valley  at  the  foot  of  the  Makonde  plateau.    Here  he  lived  a 
long  time  ;  but  the  land  belonged  to  Mawa,  a  Makua.  Then 
a  man  came  up  from  Mikindani  to  Nkunya,  by  name  Bakiri, 
to  hold  a  shauri.    He  called  all  the  tribes  together  :  Wayao, 
Wamakua,  Wamatambwe  and  Wangoni.    They  came,  all  of 
them,  in  troops,  and  Bakiri  acted  as  judge.    The  Wangoni  and 
Wamatambwe  grew  frightened  and  ran  away  ;  the  Makua  also 
ran  away  ;  there  remained  only  Matola,  j\Iawa,  and  some  of 
the  Makua.    The  shauri  lasted  from  morning  till  evening  and 
all  night  long  till  the  next  morning,  and  in  the  morning  Bakiri 
said  to  Matola  :  '  I  give  you  the  whole  country  ;  it  is  true  that 
till  now  I  have  heard  very  little  about  you  and  your  chieftain- 
ship, but  all  the  others  have  run  away  and  you  only  remained  ; 
I  see,  therefore,  that  you  are  trustworthy.    So  you  shall  rule 
over  the  whole  country.'    Mawa,  too,  agreed  to  this.    He  said  : 
'  I  am  old,  and  I  shall  soon  die  ;  do  you  rule  over  the  whole 
country.'    And  so  it  came  to  pass.    Matola  I.  ruled  wisely 
and  justly,  though  severely.    First  he  moved  to  Mikindani 
and  planted  palms  there,  then  he  went  back  inland,  half-way 
to  Newala,  and  from  thence,  at  last,  to  Newala  itself.  There 
he  lived  at  first  on  the  plateau,  because  of  the  attacks  of  the 
Mazitu  ;  then  he  came  down  into  the  valley,  but  in  the  end 
he  had  to  go  back  to  the  heights  again.    He  died  up  there  at 
Newala,  and  there  he  hes  buried." 

It  is  in  many  respects  highly  interesting  to  watch  these  dusky 
elders  while  engaged  in  recalling  their  memories  of  the  past. 
They  usually  speak  well  ;  it  is  well  known  that  most  African 
natives  do  ;  they  have  a  natural  eloquence  which  avoids 
artificial  phraseology  but  is  quick  to  find  the  simple,  natural 
expression  and  fit  it  into  the  structure  of  the  sentence.  Only 
now  and  then  we  find  a  man  whose  faculties  are  blunted  with 
old  age  and  whose  speech  flows  less  smoothly  from  his  toothless 
mouth.  The  teeth  of  old  natives  are  by  no  means  in  the 
flourishing  condition  one  might  expect  from  the  dazzling  white 
rows  of  ivory  which  characterise  the  youth  of  the  black  race. 
The  crowns  of  their  teeth  are  rapidly  worn  down  by  the  large 
amount  of  grit  which  enters  into  their  daily  food.  Millet, 


144 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


maize  and  rice  are  alike  ground  on  stones  ;  the  wear  and  tear 
to  which  these  are  subject  are  shown  by  the  deep  hohow  in 
the  lower  and  the  rapid  diminution  in  size  of  the  upper, when  they 
have  been  in  use  for  any  length  of  time.  The  resulting  minute  par- 
ticles of  stone  do  not  exactly  conduce  to  the  benefit  of  the  teeth, 
whose  premature  decay,  moreover,  is  assisted  by  the  artificial 
deformations  of  which  I  shall  have  much  to  say  later  on . 

The  kind  of  intellectual  activity  which  goes  on  is  also  worth 
notice.  The  European  investigator  has,  from  the  start,  to  take 
up  a  very  critical  attitude  towards  the  native  and  his  state- 
ments on  any  subject  whatever,  for  our  black  brother's  standard 
of  truthfulness  is  notoriously  not  very  exacting.  But  here, 
in  the  department  of  history,  the  narrators  check  each  other, 
whether  consciously  or  unconsciously  I  cannot  decide.  One 
begins — the  stream  of  his  eloquence  flows  on  peacefully  for  a 
time,  and  then  another  suddenly  interrupts  him  with  "  A  !  A  !  " 
— an  inimitable,  abruptly-uttered  sound  twice  repeated  and 
accompanied  by  a  still  more  inimitable  gesture  of  deprecation, 
as  who  should  say,  "  Stop,  my  friend,  you  are  talking  non- 
sense !  "  But  the  objection  has  hit  its  mark,  the  narrator 
breaks  off,  consults  his  historical  conscience,  and  then  presents 
the  fact  under  discussion  in  a  version  which,  on  questioning 
the  others,  is  found  to  have  their  approval. 

It  is  characteristic  of  life  in  these  parts  that  each  narrator 
can  only  give  the  history  of  his  own  immediate  tribal  group. 
All  these  men,  whether  Yao  or  Makua  by  nationality,  have 
been  whirled  about  the  country  in  numerically  small  sections, 
to  wliich  one  may  give  the  name  of  horde,  clan,  or  troop,  as 
one  pleases.  In  this  way  a  definite,  historically-grounded 
tribal  consciousness  could  not  be  formed,  and,  if  it  was  already 
in  existence,  had  every  chance  of  being  lost.  So,  too,  they 
know  nothing  except  about  themselves  and  their  own  immediate 
neighbourhood.  It  is  the  task  of  ethnology  to  collect  as  many 
as  possible  of  such  individual  accounts,  in  order  ultimately 
to  build  them  up  into  the  complete  structure  of  a  tribal  history. 
As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  there  shall  be  no  w^ant  of  industry 
and  perseverance  in  the  collection  of  such  narratives. 

Now,  however,  comes  the  last  and  most  delightful  touch— 
a  most  characteristically  African  one.  In  the  absence  of 
writing,  the  native  has  no  means  of  arriving  at  a  correct 


NATIVE  CHRONOLOGY 


145 


estimate  of  time.  His  astonishment  and  perplexity  when  asked 
his  own  age  are  fully  expressed  in  the  stare  which  meets  tlie 
questioner  ;  and  one 
never  finds  people  able 
to  give  even  the  ap- 
proximate ages  of 
their  own  children  and 
grandchildren.  Life 
flo.vs  along  far  too 
monotonously  and  un- 
eventfully, while  at  the 
same  time  it  is  too  full 
of  their  small  cares  and 
small  pleasures,  to 
leave  them  any  time  for 
special  exercises  of  memory,  even 
if  they  had  the  smallest  desire  for 
such  unnecessary  mental  exertion. 
Finally — and  this  is  probably  the 
really  decisive  cause — there  is  no 
such  thing  as  compulsory,  or 
other  registration  ;  and  so  the 
small  black  citizen  of  the  world 
grows  up  untroubled  by  questions 
of  space  and  time  ;  he  takes 
to  himself  a  wife — or  wives — 
and  raises  a  family,  and  no  one 
thinks  of  inquiring  whether 
he  and  his  age  have  been  duly 
entered  on  the  register. 

The  entire  absence  of  a  fixed 
chronology  makes  itself  felt 
more  especially  in  tribal  his- 
tory. Considering,  on  the  one 
hand,  the  sublime  indifference  to  space  and  time  already 
referred  to,  and  on  the  other  the  difficulty  of  framing  intelligible 
questions  guaranteed  not  to  produce  misleading  answers,  I 
was  ready  to  despair  of  any  satisfactory  result ;  but  I  soon 
found  that  my  informants  possessed  a  primitive  yet  tolerably 
trustworthy  method  of  dating  occurrences. 


MANUAL  CHRONOLOGY.  THAT 
HAPPENED  WHEN  I  WAS  SO  HIGH 


146 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


"  When  was  it  that  you  lived  on  the  Lumesule  ?  "  I  asked 
old  Akundonde.  Without  a  word,  he  stretched  his  riglit  arm 
out  horizontally,  at  a  height  about  corresponding  to  that  of 
a  twelve-year-old  boy,  and  bent  his  hand  gracefully  upward, 
so  that  the  elbow  formed  nearly  a  right  angle.  I  watched  this 
manoeuvre  in  silent  astonishment,  but  Knudsen  immediately 
furnished  the  explanation  amid  an  approving  murmur  from 
all  present.  It  seems  that  this  is  the  native  way  of  indicating 
the  height  (and  consequently  the  age)  of  a  human  being  ;  the 
height  of  an  animal  is  always  shown  by  stretching  the  arm  out 
straight  without  raising  the  hand.  I  must  confess  that,  among 
all  the  new  and  strange  impressions  which  have  hitherto 
crowded  in  on  my  mind  here  in  Africa,  this  delicate  and  yet  so 
significant  distinction  between  man  and  beast  is  the  most 
striking.  Nakaam  at  Mwiti  made  use  of  a  somewhat  different 
pantomime  when  relating  to  me  the  history  of  the  Yaos. 
Nakaam  draws  a  distinction  between  pure  and  mixed  Yaos  ; 
reckoning  among  the  former  the  Chiwaula,  the  Katuli,  and  the 
Kalanje.  This  is  a  point  not  hitherto  recognised  in  the 
ethnological  literature  dealing  with  the  Yaos  ;  and  it  must 
be  reserved  for  later  criticism  to  test  the  evidence  of  my 
intelligent  but  perhaps  somewhat  slippery  Chiwata  informant. 
According  to  Nakaam,  the  home  of  the  true  Yaos  is  Likopolwe, 
a  hilly  district  in  the  Chisi  country,  in  Portuguese  territory 
between  Mataka's  and  Unangu  Mountain.  They  were  expelled 
thence  by  the  chief  Mputa,  when  Nakaam's  mother  was  still 
a  little  child  crawling  on  all  fours.  Nakaam  is,  on  his  own 
testimony,  the  fourth  child  of  his  mother,  and  may  be  any 
age  from  forty  to  forty-five.  After  Mputa  came  others  of  the 
Makua,  and  broke  up  the  Yao  tribe  still  more.  Nakaam 
undoubtedly  ranks  as  an  intellectual  giant,  comparatively 
speaking,  but  even  he  could  give  no  exact  chronological  date. 
Some  compensation  for  this  was  to  be  found  in  the  comical 
sight  presented  when  the  portly  chief — who  was  usually  dignity 
personified — was  so  carried  away  by  his  narrative  as  to  forget 
what  was  due  to  his  exalted  position  and  show  us,  in  most 
realistic  pantomime,  how  his  mother  crawled  about  the  ground 
when  she  was  a  baby. 

Matola  is  in  almost  every  point  a  contrast  to  Nakaam.  The 
difference  is  seen  even  in  their  costume  :  Nakaam  dresses,  like 


MATOLA'S  ADMINISTRATIVE  DUTIES  147 


a  coast-man,  in  the  long,  snow-white  kanzu,  while  Matola  is 
a  European  above  and  a  Yao  below,  wearing  a  coloured  cotton 
waist-cloth,  like  all  his  subjects,  below  a  commonplace  European 
jacket.  The  indications  of  cunning,  so  characteristic  of 
Nakaam,  are  here  quite  absent  ;  Matola  impresses  one  as  an 
honest  man,  and  such,  in  fact,  he  is,  if  we  may  judge  by  the 
evidence  of  all  the  Europeans  at  Lindi  who  have  ever  come 
in  contact  with  him.  He  is  always  occupied — either  he  is 
holding  a  court  under  his  baraza,  that  is  to  say  talking  to  the 
dozen  or  two-dozen  men  w^ho  drop  in  and  out  there  in  the  course 
of  the  day,  or  he  is  engaged  with  us  and  the  satisfaction  of  our 
wants.  In  manners  he  differs  little  from  his  subjects. 
Smoking  is  all  but  unknown  here,  but  everyone  takes  snuff 
and  chews  tobacco.  One  consequence  of  this  habit  is  that  the 
people  are  always  expectorating,  and  Matola  is  no  exception. 
Another  objectionable  habit,  which  he  shares  with  his  neigh- 
bours, is  that  of  perpetually  scratching  himself.  In  fact,  when 
one  is  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  them,  it  is  difficult,  in  the  midst 
of  the  universal  scratching,  to  refrain  from  following  the  agree- 
able example.  I  assume  that  it  is  a  result  of  the  prevailing 
want  of  cleanliness  ;  the  water  from  the  two  or  three  holes  in 
the  nearest  stream-bed  is  only  just  enough  for  cooking  and 
drinking  ;  there  is  none  of  the  precious  fluid  left  to  wash  one's 
face,  to  say  nothing  of  one's  whole  body. 

Of  all  my  senses  the  olfactory  is  the  best  developed,  and 
daily  causes  me  acute  suffering.  When  a  party  of  natives 
honour  me  with  a  visit,  their  coning  is  heralded  from  afar  off 
by  a  smell  whose  ingredients,  including  racial  odour,  perspira- 
tion, rancid  oil,  wood-smoke,  and  a  hundred  others,  our 
language  is  too  poor  to  specify  in  full.  What  comes  nearest 
to  it  is,  perhaps,  the  exhalation  from  a  large  flock  of  sheep. 

And  then  the  flies  !  Along  with  the  smell,  which,  so  to  speak, 
marches  ahead  of  the  main  body,  they  come  rushing  in  swarms 
•on  the  unlucky  European.  I  thought  myself  a  model  of  pru- 
dence and  foresight  in  bringing  with  me  from  Leipzig  two  pairs 
of  spectacles  with  smoked  glasses.  One  of  these  has  long  had 
its  abiding-place  on  Moritz's  nose.  The  rascal  appeared  one 
fine  day  suffering  from  acute  conjunctivitis,  which,  thanks  to 
my  energetic  treatment,  is  by  this  time  quite  cured.  But  it 
has  never  entered  the  conceited  fellow's  head  to  restore  the 


148  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


glasses,  which,  in  an  access  of  exaggerated  philanthropy,  I 
had  placed  at  his  disposal.  That  he  no  longer  really  requires 
them  is  sufficiently  shown  by  the  fact  that  he  usually  takes 
them  off  in  the  bright  sunlight,  but  wears  them  instead  in  the 
dusk  of  the  house  and  of  course  stumbles  over  everything  that 
happens  to  be  standing  about.  The  other  pair  serve  me 
excellently  well  out  of  doors,  but  under  the  dark  haraza  they 
absorb  too  much  light,  and  thus  I  am  left  without  protection 
from  the  swarms  of  flies  the  natives  bring  with  them.  These 
African  insects  and  our  European  house-ffies  are  not  to  be 
mentioned  in  the  same  breath.  Like  a  flash  of  lightning,  a 
creature  the  size  of  a  small  bee  comes  rushing  at  you — not 
hitting  the  eye  straight,  but  describing  a  tangent,  and  passing 
along  inside  the  whole  eyelid,  with  such  incredible  swiftness 
that  defence  is  absolutely  impossible.  This  is  repeated  over 
and  over  again,  while  the  victim,  in  mingled  astonishment  and 
horror,  watches  the  little  wretches  preparing  for  the  attack 
by  a  short  halt  on  the  inflamed  eyelids  of  the  natives.  Instinc- 
tively one  hits  out  wildly  all  round  to  no  purpose  :  the  raid 
has  already  been  successfully  accomplished.  Knudsen  suffers 
less  from  this  plague  than  I,  and  apparently  also  from  the  one 
previously  mentioned  ;  for,  while  I  always  feel  more  or  less 
ill  after  a  shauri  lasting  several  hours,  the  blonde  Norwegian 
sits  all  day  long  among  the  people  unmoved. 

There  is  not  much  to  be  seen  of  the  women  here.  Matola 
has  repeatedly  issued  stringent  orders  that  they  are  all  to  come 
and  be  photographed,  but  so  far  only  four  or  five  have  appeared. 
They  no  sooner  see  me  than  they  make  their  escape  as  quickly 
as  their  native  dignity  and  the  peculiarities  of  the  feminine 
mode  of  progression  will  permit. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  am  persistently  besieged  by  the  male 
youth  of  the  place.  Our  residence  is  surrounded  by  a  perfect 
wall  of  small  boys  squatting  on  the  ground,  their  mouths  wide 
open,  staring  stupid  and  motionless  at  the  white  stranger. 
This  open  mouth  is  universal  among  the  children  here — as  is 
also  the  well-known  pot-belly  ;  hardly  a  surprising  pheno- 
menon, if  one  sees  the  amount  of  indigestible  vegetable  food 
which  one  of  these  boys  will  stuff  into  himself  in  the  course 
of  the  day.  I  am  unable  to  judge  how  this  unintentional 
deformation  of  the  body  disappears  afterwards,  but  that  it 


THE  DAILY  DUST-STORM 


149 


must  do  so  is  certain,  the  adults  being  without  exception 
well-built  men. 

The  Dark  Continent  has  no  love  for  me  ;  on  the  march  it 
persecuted  me  daily  with  its  whirlwinds,  and  here  at  Chingu- 
lungulu  it  pursues  a  systematic  plan  for  expelling  me  from  its 
interior.  Knudsen  and  I  dine  between  twelve  and  one. 
Originally  the  hour  had  been  fixed  at  twelve  precisely.  With 
measured  step  Moritz  and  Knudsen's  Ali  approach  from  the 
direction  of  the  kitchen  with  the  inevitable  plate  of  tinned 


OIR    CAMl'    AT  CHIXGLLUNGL'LU 


soup.  We  are  ready  to  fall  to  cheerfully,  each — as  is  customary 
out  here — at  his  own  camp-table,  when  we  hear  the  sound  of 
a  rushing  mighty  wind  coming  nearer  and  nearer.  Dust,  grass, 
and  leaves  are  whirled  into  the  air  ;  one  instinctively  holds 
one's  hand  or  one's  cap  over  the  plate,  but  all  in  vain — a 
gyrating  chaos  of  ashes,  dust,  tufts  of  grass,  and  all  the  various 
kinds  of  dirt  which  can  only  be  studied  in  this  country,  over- 
whelms us  from  behind  ;  the  haraza  groans  in  all  its  beams  ; 
the  boys  fly  out,  unresisting  and  helpless  into  the  open  space 
in  front  ;  and  then  all  is  over.  When  we  can  open  our  eyes 
under  the  crust  of  foreign  matter  which  covers  our  faces  and 
everything  else,  we  are  just  in  time  to  see  the  thatch  of  the 
huts  waltzing  through  the  air  before  the  whole  phenomenon 


150 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


vanishes  into  the  pori.  On  the  first  day,  of  course,  we  were 
quite  helpless  ;  on  the  second  we  were  again  overwhelmed 
while  thinking  no  evil  ;  on  the  third  I  suggested  that  dinner 
should  be  postponed  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  It  was  no  use, 
the  whirlwind  came  just  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later.  We  have 
gone  on  waging  a  regular  war  against  this  midday  whirlwind, 
and,  so  far,  we  have  been  beaten  all  along  the  line.  It  always 
springs  up  the  moment  the  soup  is  brought  in.  Moritz  and 
Ali  have  scarcely  time  to  clap  the  lids  of  a  couple  of  tins  over 
our  plates  when  it  is  upon  us.  To  protect  ourselves  against  it, 
and  also,  it  must  be  said,  against  the  troublesome  curiosity 
of  the  children  of  the  land,  small  and  great,  we  have  built 
ourselves  in  under  Matola's  haraza  by  carrying  a  screen  of  millet 
stalks  right  across  the  hall  high  enough  to  reach  the  roof,  and 
erecting  two  other  screens  at  the  ends  of  the  first  and  con- 
verging on  each  other,  so  that  we  are  now  in  a  closed  room. 
But  my  intimate  enemy,  the  chimbunga,  penetrates  even  into 
this  carefully  protected  apartment. 

The  water-supply  of  this  region  forms  a  subject  by  itself. 
Of  all  the  charms  of  Chingulungulu  this  was  what  Knudsen 
had  dwelt  on  most  lovingly — one  might  be  ever  so  ill  and 
wretched,  but  a  draught  from  this  unrivalled  spring  would 
restore  health  to  the  most  infirm.  One  of  our  first  walks  after 
getting  through  the  fever  which  marked  our  arrival  at  this 
place,  was  to  its  principal  wells.  They  are  close  to  the  road 
from  Zuza's,  and  I  should  have  seen  them  just  before  we 
arrived  had  I  not  been  at  that  time  more  dead  than  alive. 
With  expectations  raised  to  the  highest  pitch,  I  walked  along 
the  path  leading  to  the  spot  in  question — two  hundred  yards 
distant  at  most — followed  by  a  long  train  of  boys  and  half- 
grown  lads.  "  Here  we  are,"  said  my  companion  suddenly, 
as  we  caught  sight  of  a  number  of  women  and  several  young 
girls  squatting  in  three  roomy  pits  about  six  feet  deep. 

"  Well,  how  about  the  spring  ?  "  I  asked,  the  Norwegian's 
glowing  descriptions  being  still  present  to  my  mind's  eye. 

"  Why,  down  there — those  holes — those  are  the  springs  ; 
don't  you  see  the  w^omen  drawing  water  ?  "  That  I  certainly 
did  see,  and  my  illusions  vanished  in  the  twdnkling  of  an  eye. 
But  their  place  was  taken  with  equal  rapidity  by  the  scientific 
interest  attaching  to  the  hydrography  of  the  country  in  general 


THE  WELLS  OF  CHINGULUNGULU  151 


and  Chingulungulu  in  particular  ;  and  of  this  I  was  enabled 
to  get  a  fairly  clear  notion  after  walking  round  the  three  pits 
and  scrambling  down  into  each  of  them. 

The  rivers  and  streams  here  on  the  inland  slope  of  the 
Makonde  plateau  are  of  the  kind  called  wadi  in  North  Africa  or 
Omurambe  in  the  distant  German  territory  of  the  south-west — 
that  is  to  say,  they  have  water  all  the  year  round,  but  only  in 


1  1  IC-liULKS    AT  CHINGULUX(.fLi: 


the  subsoil  ;  on  the  surface  the  water  does  not  flow  except  in 
the  rainy  season,  and  immediately  after  it.  The  rains,  which 
are  extremely  abundant,  were  over  months  ago,  so  that  it  is 
no  wonder  if  the  people  have  to  dig  deeper  every  day  into  the 
stream-beds  to  find  water.  Here  they  have  in  places  pene- 
trated right  through  the  superincumbent  strata,  and  Moritz 
cannot  say  enough  in  praise  of  this  water  which  comes  straight 
from  the  living  rock.  It  may  indeed  be  comparatively  poor 
in  bacteria  and  innocuous  even  for  Europeans,  but  what  I  have 
seen  of  the  way  in  which  it  is  obtained  has  induced  me  to  keep 
up,  from  the  moment  of  my  arrival,  and  insist  on  having 


152 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


scrupulously  carried  out,  the  procedure  customary  with  me 
ever  since  we  left  Lindi,  of  having  all  the  drinking-water  treated 
with  alum,  filtered,  and  boiled. 

In  no  department  of  daily  life  is  the  contrast  between  Europe 
and  Africa  more  sharply  defined  than  in  this  matter  of  the 
water-supply.  Instead  of  the  brass  tap  and  clear,  cool  water 
in  a  clean  glass,  we  find,  brooding  over  a  muddy  water-hole, 
an  almost  equally  muddy  woman.  Behind  her,  on  the  high 
bank,  stands  her  portly  earthen  jar.  She  sits  gazing  apathetic- 
ally into  the  narrow  opening,  the  usual  ladle  (the  half-cocoa-nut- 
shell w^ith  a  wooden  handle  stuck  through  it)  in  her  right  hand. 
At  last  enough  fluid  has  accumulated  to  make  it  worth  while 
to  plunge  the  dipper  under  the  turbid  surface  ;  not  ungracefully, 
with  the  rocking  motion  peculiar  to  the  negress,  she  reaches 
the  top  of  the  bank,  and  the  water  pours  in  a  milky  jet  into  the 
large  jar,  the  process  being  repeated  as  often  as  necessary  till  it 
is  full.  Then  she  walks  to  the  nearest  bush  and  comes  back 
with  a  handful  of  fresh  green  twigs,  which  she  carefully  inserts 
into  the  neck  of  the  jar.  This  is  no  manifestation  of  a  decora- 
tive instinct,  or  of  any  feeling  for  the  beauties  of  nature — 
neither  man  nor  woman  in  this  country  has  advanced  so  far  ; 
in  fact,  highly  as  we  Europeans  think  of  ourselves,  this  feeling 
for  nature  is  even  with  us  of  comparative!}^  recent  growth. 
The  native  is,  in  the  first  instance,  practical^ — -in  fact,  he  is 
nothing  if  not  practical.  Without  this  bunch  of  leaves,  the 
water-jar,  filled  to  the  brim,  would  slop  over  at  every  step, 
drenching  the  bearer's  head  and  body ;  but,  as  it  is,  not  a  drop 
is  spilt,  the  twigs  and  leaves  hindering  all  undulatory  motion 
in  the  narrow  space.    Prohatum  est. 

The  uses  of  a  coffee  machine  are  various.  My  cook,  Omari, 
having  from  the  beginning  refused  to  employ  mine  for  its 
legitimate  purpose,  it  came  in  very  handy  for  the  construction 
of  a  filter.  Charcoal  is  always  to  be  had  ;  and  it  is  easy  to 
pound  it  into  small  pieces  and  put  a  deep  layer  into  the  tin 
funnel,  which  with  its  two  fine  strainers  thus  makes  an  excellent 
filter,  simple,  portable,  and  easily  repaired.  It  gives  Moritz 
and  Kibwana  far  more  to  do  than  the  lazy  rascals  like.  Having 
formerly  studied  the  problem  of  sedimentary  deposit  in 
different  kinds  of  water,  I  know  that  salts  hasten  the 
precipitation  of  all  solid  matter.    Alum  is  the  clarifier  indicated 


I 


154  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


for  this  expedition.  A  moderately  large  tin  is  easily  procured 
from  any  Indian  trader,  and  the  carriers  have  soon  deposited, 
in  the  shade  of  the  baraza,  a  long  row  of  jars  and  calabashes 
hastily  borrowed  from  the  inhabitants.  "  Dawa  ya  Ulaya  !  " 
I  call  out  to  Kibwana,  meaning  this  time  the  alum-tin.  Dawa 
is  anything  producing  an  effect  which  the  native  fails  to 
understand,  and  Ulaya  is  every  country  outside  his  own — 
usually  Europe,  and  sometimes  Germany  in  particular  ;  but 
even  American  petroleum,  for  him,  comes  from  Ulaya.  A 
pinch  of  the  salt  is  dropped  into  every  jar,  which,  when  stirred 
round,  shows  an  alarming  degree  of  thickness  and  impurity. 
All  the  same,  Moritz  considers  this  broth  "  maji  mazuri  " 
("  beautiful  water  "),  a  designation  which  only  fits  it,  in  my 
opinion,  after  the  lapse  of  several  hours.  Then,  indeed,  it  is 
clear  as  crystal.  After  carefully  pouring  it  off,  the  boys  strain 
it  twice,  thrice,  or  even  four  times  through  the  charcoal  filter. 
Omari  boils  it  for  ten  minutes,  under  threats  of  the  severest 
punishment  in  case  of  failure.  It  is  left  to  cool  overnight,  and 
in  the  morning  it  is  a  drink  for  the  gods — though  only  rendered 
so  first  by  the  water-cooler  and  then  by  the  addition  of  fruit- 
syrup  from  Liibeck.  My  Berlin  outfit,  of  course,  included  the 
usual  large  aluminium  flask  carried  by  expeditions,  but  I  never 
dream  of  using  it.  Instead,  we  carry  an  Indian  water-cooler 
of  porous,  unglazed  earthenware,  which  I  bought  at  Lindi,  by 
Captain  Seyfried's  advice,  for  a  rupee,  and  which  is  closely 
netted  round  with  cocoanut  rope  for  protection  on  the  journey, 
and  carried  by  Kofia  tule  with  more  dignity  than  grace  on  his 
woolly  head.  It  amuses  me,  by  the  bye,  to  find  that  Knudsen 
will  not  hear  of  treating  his  drinking-water  with  alum.  He  is 
quite  of  the  same  mind  as  his  native  friends  and  thinks  there  is 
something  uncanny  about  the  dawa  ya  Ulaya,  preferring  the 
muddy  brew  as  it  comes  from  the  well.  Well — haheat  sihi  ! 
In  our  enthusiasm  for  seltzer — prepared  on  my  sparklet 
apparatus — with  fruit-syrup  in  it,  we  are  cordially  agreed.  It 
is  better  than  the  finest  quality  of  pomhe  produced  at  the 
celebrated  breweries  of  Chingulungulu. 


CHAPTER  IX 


AMONG  THE  YAOS 

Chingulungulu,  August  20,  1906. 

The  greatest  service  Matola  has  hitherto  rendered  me  is  the 
arrangement  of  a  few  evening  meetings  with  the  women  of  his 
village,  whom  he  has  at  last  succeeded  in  inducing  to  venture 
into  the  lion's  den.  Knudsen  and  I  have  just  finished  our  frugal 
evening  meal,  and  Knudsen  is  as  usual  chatting  with  his  friend 
Daudi  (David),  the  native  preacher,  while  I  am  seated  at  my 
table,  working  up  my  notes  for  the  day.  Daudi  belongs  to  the 
Universities'  Mission,  was  educated  at  Zanzibar,  and  prefers 
speaking  English  to  me.  There  is  not  much  to  be  got  of 
him  from  my  point  of  view,  as  his  ideas  have  been  greatly 
modified  by  Christianity.  To-night  the  east  wind,  which  on 
other  occasions  has  threatened,  in  spite  of  all  precautions,  to 
put  out  our  lamp,  is  not  blowing,  for  a  wonder ;  and  the  "  Tip- 
pelskirch  "  sheds  its  rays  undisturbed  on  our  novel  surround- 
ings. My  cigar,  also,  has  an  excellent  flavour;  and  everything 
breathes  comfort  and  satisfaction,  when,  approaching  almost 
inaudibly  over  the  loose  sandy  soil  on  which  even  our  thick 
European  boots  make  little  or  no  noise,  Matola  appears  and 
takes  his  seat  on  his  accustomed  box.  He  is  followed  by 
some  thirty  women  and  girls,  most  of  them  with  babies  on 
their  backs,  the  majority  of  whom  are  peacefully  asleep,  though 
some  keep  gasping  and  groaning,  within  the  supporting  cloth. 
The  whole  company  squats  down  on  the  floor  between  us,  closely 
huddled  together.  I  get  Knudsen,  who  speaks  Yao  fluently 
though  not  grammatically,  to  explain  what  I  want,  viz.,  songs 
and  stories — and  then  wait  to  see  what  will  happen.  For 
some  time  nothing  happens — except  that  a  half-grown  boy, 
who  has  slipped  in  with  the  rest,  begins  to  relate  a  long  fable  ; 
but  he  speaks  so  quickly  that  it  is  impossible  to  follow  him. 
Of  course  he  cannot  dictate  his  story  slowly  enough  for  me 
to  take  it  down.  This  is  a  very  common  experience — the 
people  sing  and  speak  into  the  phonograph  with  enviable 
readiness,  but  are  helplessly  perplexed  when  asked  to  dictate 

155 


156 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


the  words  slowly.    Indeed  this  could  hardly  be  expected  of 

them.    We  decide  to  reserve  the  boy  for  another  opportunity 

and  once  more  there  is  silence.    Then  arises,  first  very  shyly, 

but  soon  gaining  confidence  and  volume,  a  woman's  clear 

voice.    Presently  the  chorus  joins  in,  and  alternates  with  the 

solo  in  regular  turns  for  a  considerable  time  : — 

Chakalakale,  mwana  jua  Kundungu,  mwanja  kwa  tati,  "  Ananyile 
litala  kwa  tati  Kimampuye."  Nikwiola  ku  litimbe,  kuwalimaga 
Chenampuye.  Newaije  ku  musi  kwa  atati  wao.  Nigombaga  uti 
nekugawiraga  musi.     Nekutamaga.  ^ 

The  meaning  of  this  is  : — 

"  Chakalakale,  a  child  of  God,  went  away  to  his  father. 
Show  me  the  way  to  my  father's — to  Kunampuye.  He 
w^ent  to  the  river-bed  where  Chenampuye  w^as  hoeing.  He 
came  to  the  village  to  his  father.  Then  there  were  guns  fired 
and  a  village  was  assigned  him  to  live  in.  And  he  lived  at 
home." 

So  far  all  has  gone  smoothly  .  .  .  the  song  has  come  to  an 
end.  Matola,  Daudi,  Knudsen  and  I  have  with  no  little  trouble 
established  the  authentic  text,  and  the  translation  has  been 
satisfactorily  accomplished  ;  but  unfortunately  I  have  to 
relinquish  the  idea  of  getting  a  phonographic  record  of  the  not 
unpleasing  air.  After  my  last  failures  at  Lindi,  due  to  the 
heat,  which  softened  the  recording  cylinders,  I  tried  my  luck 
later  on  at  Masasi,  but  the  results  there  were  with  hardly 
any  exceptions  quite  unsatisfactory.  The  softness  of  the 
cylinder  is  no  disadvantage  in  recording,  on  the  contrary,  it 
enables  the  needle  to  make  a  deeper  impression,  but  the 
impossibility  of  reproduction  makes  it  difficult  to  check  the 
text  when  afterwards  dictated. 

There  is  not  much  to  remark  about  the  foregoing  song.  I 
was  at  first  doubtful  of  the  rendering  given  of  mwana  jua  kun- 
dungu, but  Matola  and  Daudi  both  insisted  on  explaining  it  as 
"  a  child  of  God."  What  is  understood  by  that  expression 
here  it  is  impossible  to  say  ;  perhaps  it  denotes  a  rebel,  as 
further  north,  in  Usagara  and  Ukami,  and  on  the  Rufiji,  the 
leaders  of  the  Majimaji  have  in  fact  assumed  a  title  of  somewhat 

1  The  accents  are  reproduced  from  Dr.  Weule's  transcript.  The 
accent  never  in  Yao  falls  on  the  last  syllable  but  sometimes,  in  singing, 
the  accent  appears  to  be  displaced,  or  possibly  the  rising  intonation 
has  been  confused  with  the  accent. — [Tr.]  


NATIVE  BABIES 


157 


the  same  import.  The  prefix  ku  in  the  name  Kunampuye  is 
the  same  as  che- — ^both  are  about  equivalent  to  "  Mr."  or 


At  last  we  have  finished  writing  down  and  translating  the 
text.  The  mothers  have  watched  us  in  complete  silence — 
not  so  the  babies,  who  all  seem  to  suffer  from  colds,  and  breathe 
noisily  in  consequence.  The  assertions  made  in  so  many  works 
on  Africa,  as  to  the  happiness  of  the  native  in  early  childhood, 
do  not  stand  the  test  of  reahty.    As  soon  as  the  mother  gets 


up  after  her  confinement,  which  she  does  very  soon,  the  infant 
is  put  into  the  cloth  which  she  ties  on  her  back.  There  it  stays 
all  day  long,  whether  the  mother  is  having  her  short  woolly 
hair  dressed  by  a  friend,  enjoying  a  gossip  at  the  well,  hoeing, 
weeding,  or  reaping  in  the  burning  sun.  When  she  stands 
for  hours  together,  pounding  corn  in  the  mortar,  the  baby 
jogs  up  and  down  with  the  rhythmic  motion  of  her  arms,  and 
when  she  is  kneeling  before  the  millstone  grinding  the  meal 
into  fine  white  flour,  or  squatting  by  the  hearth  in  the  evening, 
the  rosy  morsel  of  humanity  never  leaves  its  close  and  warm, 
but  not  altogether  hygienic  nest.  The  rosiness  does  not  last 
long.  No  provision  in  the  way  of  napkins  being  made,  the 
skin  soon  becomes  chapped  and  deep  cracks  are  formed, 
especially  at  the  joints,  and  the  terrible  African  flies  lay  their  eggs 
on  the  eyelids  of  the  unfortunate  little  ones,  neither  father 
nor  mother  ever  raising  a  hand  to  drive  them  away — they 


Mrs. 


TWO   MAKUA  MOTHERS 


158 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


never  dream  of  making  this  effort  for  their  own  benefit  !  No 
wonder  that  the  httle  eyes,  wliich  in  the  case  of  our  own 
children  we  are  accustomed  to  think  of  as  the  most  wonderful 
and  beautiful  thing  in  organic  nature,  should  be  bleared  and 
dim.  Fungoid  ulcers  (the  result  of  "  thrush  ")  are  seen 
protruding  in  bluish  white  masses  from  nose  and  mouth.  The 


A   FRIENDLY  CHAT 


universal  colds  are  the  consequence  of  the  great  difference  of 

temperature  between  day  and  night.    The  parents  can  protect 

themselves  by  means  of  the  fire  and  their  mats  ;  the  child  gets 

wet,  is  left  lying  untouched  and  uncared  for,  becomes  chilled 

through,  and  of  course  catches  cold.    Hence  the  general 

coughing  and  sniffing  in  our  baraza.  ^ 

^  A  subsequent  passage  in  which  ahnost  the  same  description  is 
given  must  be  taken  with  tlie  above  as  somewhat  qualifying  it.  It 
must  be  admitted  that  Dr.  Weule's  statements,  as  they  stand  here, 
are  certainly  misleading,  and  convey  an  exaggerated  impression  of 
universal  neglect  and  misery  among  African  babies.  It  is  true  that 
there  is  much  to  be  done,  by  women  missionaries  and  others,  in  the 
way  of  inculcating  sound  hygienic  principles  (though  not  more,  perhaps, 
than  in  London  !) — but  the  appalling  state  of  things  described  is  by 
no  means  universal,  and  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  tribes  of  the 
Makonde  plateau  had  been  harassed  by  slavers  and  hunted  from  place 
to  place  even  beyond  the  wont  of  Africans  in  general. — [Tr.] 


THE  SOXGO  SNAKE 


159 


The  women  having  noticed  that  the  first  number  on  the 
programme  is  finished,  the  same  solo  voice  as  before  begins 
once  more,  softlv  and  not  unmelodiously.  "  Seletu,  seletii, 
songo  katole,  tung'ande  songo  katole.'"  This  song,  too,  alter- 
nates between  solo  and  chorus,  like  the  previous  one.  I 
alread}^  know  enough  Yao  to  translate  the  two  words,  songo 
katole  ;  their  meaning,  "  Bring  the  songo  "  (snake)  makes  me 
curious  as  to  that  of  the  rest.  And  rightly  so,  for  how  any- 
one can  invite  a  person  to  bring  up  this,  the  most  poisonous 
reptile  in  East  Africa,  whose  bite  is  instantly  fatal,  is  at  present 
a  mvster^^  I  restrain  my  curiosity,  however,  till  I  have  heard 
the  next  song,  which  might  be  considered  as  merely  a  continua- 
tion of  the  first,  as  the  air  is  the  same,  and  the  only  difference 
is  the  introduction  of  another  animal — the  lion.  The  words 
are  as  follows  : — 

Solo  :    Seletu  seletu,  simba  katole. 
Chorus  :    Seletu  seletu,  simba  katole. 
Solo  :    Seletu  seletu,  simba  okoto. 
Chorus  :    Seletu  seletu,  simba  okoto. 

I  have  a  good  ear,  but  unfortunately  have  had  no  musical 
training  whatever,  and  have  never  regretted  this  so  much  as 
I  do  now,  here  in  the  interior  of  Africa,  especially  now  that  my 
phonograph  is  hors  de  combat.  This  would  not  have  mattered 
so  much,  had  I  been  able  to  enter  the  simple  melody  at  once 
in  my  note-book,  but,  as  it  is,  I  shall  have  to  dispense  with  a 
record  altogether.  In  both  tliese  songs  the  line  sung  by  the  solo 
perforrner  is  repeated  by  the  whole  chorus,  and  this  alternation 
goes  on  for  an  indefinite  time,  tih  the  performers  are  tired  out. 

In  both  cases,  the  words  when  translated  are  simple  enough  : 

(1)  Seletu,  seletu,  the  songo  snake,  bring  it  here  and  let  us  play, 

bring  it  here,  the  songo  snake. 

(2)  Seletu,  seletu,  the  lion,  bring  him  here — seletu,  seletu,   the  lion 

is  beautiful. 

That  is  all.  I  think  the  admiration  here  expressed  for  two 
creatures  very  dangerous  to  the  natives  is  to  be  explained  as 
a  kind  of  captatio  henevolenticB  rather  than  as  the  outcome  of 
any  feeling  for  nature  or  of  artistic  delight  in  the  bright  colours 
of  the  serpent  or  the  powerful  frame  of  the  lion.  Both  children 
and  grown-up  people  are  more  concerned  about  the  songo  than 
about  any  other  creature  ;  it  is  said  to  live  among  the  rocks, 
to  have  a  comb  like  a  cock  and  to  produce  sounds  by  which  it 


160 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


entices  its  prey.  ^  It  darts  down  like  lightning  on  its  victim 
from  a  tree  overhanging  the  path,  strikes  him  on  the  neck,  and 
he  falls  down  dead.  The  natives  have  described  the  whole 
scene  to  me  over  and  over  again  with  the  most  expressive 
pantomime.  It  is  quite  comprehensible  that  this  snake  should 
be  feared  beyond  everything,  and,  considering  similar  pheno- 
mena in  other  parts  of  the  world,  it  seems  quite  natural  that 
they  should  try  to  propitiate  this  terrible  enemy  by  singing 
his  praises  as  being  eminently  fitted  to  take  part  in  the  dance. 
Precisely  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  lion. 

Now  things  become  more  lively.  Chindawi  ! cries  one, 
to  be  rendered  approximately  by  "  I'll  tell  you  something  !  " 
and  another  answers  Ajise  ! ("Let  it  come.")  The  first 
speaker  now  says,  "  Aju,  aji,^^  and  passes  her  right  hand  in 
quick,  bold  curves  through  the  air.  I  do  not  know  what  to  make 
of  the  whole  proceeding,  nor  the  meaning  of  the  answer, 
"  Kyuwilili''  from  the  other  side.  The  dumb  shyness  which 
at  first  characterized  the  women  has  now  yielded  to  a  mild 
hilarity  not  diminished  by  my  perplexed  looks.  At  last  comes 
the  solution,  "  Aju,  aji,^^  merely  means  "  this  and  that,"^  and 

1  This  crowing  serpent  is  well  known  by  hearsay  throughout  Nyasa- 
land.  It  is  said  to  have  a  red  crest  and  to  have  "  killed  very  many 
people  in  the  Angoni  country"  (Scott's  Dictionary,  s.v.,  Kasongo). 
The  natives  w^ho  told  me  about  it  had  never  seen  it  themselves,  but 
had  heard  about  it  from  hunters  ;  they  described  its  habit  of  darting 
down  from  trees,  and  added  that  the  said  hunters  circumvented  it  by 
making  the  foremost  man  of  the  party  carry  a  pot  full  of  fire  (others 
say  very  hot  gruel  or  scalding  bran-mash)  on  his  head,  into  which  the 
snake  descends  and  perishes.  The  Anyanja  say  ingolira  koh — "  It 
cries  koh  !  "  (they  render  the  sound  of  a  cock's  crow  as  kokololiko) . 
Mr.  Richard  Crawshay  assured  me  that  the  songo  was  a  real  and  not 
a  mythical-  snake  ;  he  had  killed  one — but  it  had  no  red  crest,  and 
he  had  not  heard  its  voice.  The  late  Bishop  Maples,  however,  did, 
on  one  occasion,  hear  a  "  large  snake  with  a  serrated  comb  "  crow  like 
a  cock  while  travelling  betw^een  Masasi  and  the  Rovuma  in  1877. — [Tr.] 

2  Apparently  the  same  word  as  the  Chinyanja  ckindapi,  meaning 
either  a  proverb,  a  short  story,  or  a  riddle.  The  Rev.  H.  B.  Barnes 
says  that  in  a  "  riddle  contest  "  the  propounder  of  the  enigma  says 
"  Chindapi  !  "  and  the  rest  of  the  company  "  Chijija  "  (let  it  come  !) 
Similar  formulas  appear  to  be  in  use  throughout  Bantu  Africa. — [Tr.] 

3  Both  words  mean  "  this,"  but  are  of  different  classes.  "  Ichi, 
ichi  "  (this,  this),  is  a  similar  riddle  recorded  at  Blantyre,  to  which 
the  answer  is  "  a  shadow."  In  fact,  I  am  indebted  to  Dr.  Weule 
for  the  explanation,  having  (no  doubt  through  failing  to  notice  the 
accompanying  gestures)  abandoned  it  as  a  hopeless  puzzle. — [Tr.] 


RIDDLES 


161 


the  passes  of  the  hand  are  supposed  to  be  made  under  a  vertical 
sun  when  the  shadow  would  pass  as  swiftly  and  silently  over 
the  ground  as  the  hand  itself  does  through  the  air.  Kyuwilili 
(the  shadow),  then,  is  the  answer  to  this  very  primitive  African 
riddle. 

"  Chindawi  !  " — "  Ajise  !  "—the  game  goes  on  afresh,  and 
the  question  is,  this  time,  "  Go  jo  go  jo  kakuungwa  "  ("  What 
rattles  in  its  house  ?  ")  I  find  the  answer  to  this  far  less 
recondite  than  the  first  one — "  Mbelemende  "  (the  bazi  pea), 
which  of  course  is  thought  of  as  still  in  the  pod  growing  on  a 
shrub  resembling  our  privet.  The  ripe  seeds,  in  fact,  produce 
a  rattling  noise  in  the  fresh  morning  breeze. 

But  for  the  third  time  "  Chindawi  !  " — "  Ajise  !  "  rings  out, 
and  this  time  the  problem  set  is  Achiwanangu  kulingana.'' 
I  am  quite  helpless,  but  Matola  with  his  usual  vivacity,  springs 
into  the  circle,  stoops  down  and  points  with  outstretched  hands 
to  his  knees,  while  a  murmur  of  applause  greets  him.  "  My 
children  are  of  equal  size  "  is  the  enigma  ;  its  unexpected 
solution  is,  "  Malungo  "  (the  knees).  We  Europeans,  with  our 
coldly- calculating  intellect,  have  long  ago  lost  the  enviable 
faculty  of  early  childhood,  which  enabled  us  to  personify  a  part 
as  if  it  were  the  whole.  A  happy  fate  allows  the  African  to 
keep  it  even  in  extreme  old  age. 

By  this  time  nothing  more  surprises  me.  A  fourth  woman's 
voice  chimes  in  with  Amhuje  ajigele  utandi  "  ("  My  master 
brings  meal  ").  The  whole  circle  of  faces  is  turned  as  one  on 
the  European,  who  once  more  can  do  nothing  but  murmur 
an  embarrassed  "  5i;W  "  ("I  do  not  know").  The  answer, 
triumphantly  shouted  at  me—'Uuli/''  ("White  hair!")— 
is,  in  fact,  to  our  way  of  thinking  so  far-fetched  that  I  should 
never  have  guessed  it.  Perhaps  this  riddle  may  have  been 
suggested  by  the  fact  that  an  old  white-headed  native  does  in 
fact  look  as  if  his  head  had  been  powdered  with  flour.  ^ 

Now  comes  the  last  number  of  a  programme  quite  full 
enough  even  for  a  blase  inquirer. 

"  Chindawi  !  " — "  Ajise  /  "   is   heard   for   the   last  time. 

1  This  riddle  also  I  obtained  at  Blantyre,  in  the  Chinyanja  language, 
but  from  a  Yao  girl,  thus  :  "  Ambuye  naona  alikwenda  m'njira  natenga 
ufa  "  ("  I  saw  my  master  walking  on  the  road  and  he  was  carrying 
flour  "). — [Tr.] 

II— (2131) 


162  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


"  Pita  kupite  akuno  tusimane  apa  / "  ^  The  excitement  in 
which  everyone  gazes  at  me  is  if  possible  greater  than  before ; 
they  are  evidently  enjoying  the  feeling  of  their  superiority 
over  the  white  man,  who  understands  nothing  of  what  is 
going  on.  But  this  time  their  excess  of  zeal  betrayed  them — 
their  gestures  showed  me  clearly  what  their  language  concealed, 
for  all  went  through  the  movement  of  clasping  a  girdle  with 
both  hands.  "  Lupundu  "  (a  girdle)  is  accordingly  the  answer 
to  this  riddle,  which  in  its  very  cadence  when  translated, — 
"  Goes  round  to  the  left,  goes  round  to  the  right,  and  meets 
in  the  middle  " — recalls  that  of  similar  nursery  riddles  at  home, 
e.g.,  the  well-known  "  Long  legs,  crooked  thighs,  little  head, 
and  no  eyes." 

Matola  himself  came  forward  with  an  "  extra  "  by  way  of 
winding  up  the  evening.  His  contribution  runs  thus  : — 
"  Chikalakasa  goje  kung^anda,  kimg'anda  yekwete  umbo,^^  which 
is,  being  interpreted,  "Skulls  do  not  play"  (or  "dance"); 
"  they  only  play  who  have  hair  (on  their  heads)." 

The  difficult  work  of  the  translator  is  always  in  this  country 
accompanied  by  that  of  the  commentator,  so  that  it  does  not 
take  long  to  arrive  at  the  fact  that  this  sentence  might  be 
regarded  as  a  free  version  of  "  Gather  ye  roses  while  ye  may," 
or  "  A  living  dog  is  better  than  a  dead  lion."  I,  too,  turning 
to  Matola  and  Daudi,  say  solemnly,  "  Chikalakasa  goje  kung 
anda,  kung^anda  yekwete  umho'^  and  then  call  out  to  Moritz, 
"  Bilauri  nne  za  ponihe  "  ("A  glass  of  beer  for  each  of  us  "). 

The  drab  liquor  is  already  bubbling  in  our  drinking  vessels — 
two  glasses  and  two  tin  mugs.  "  Skal,  Mr.  Knudsen "  ; 
"  Prosit,  Professor " — the  two  natives  silently  bow  their 
heads.  With  heartfelt  dehght  we  let  the  cool  fluid  run  down 
our  thirsty  throats.  "  Kung'anda  yekwete  umbo  "  ("  They 
only  play  who  have  hair  on  their  heads  ").  .  .  .  Silently  and 
almost  imperceptibly  the  dark  figures  of  the  women  have 
shpped  away,  with  a  "  Kwa  heri,  Bwana  ! "  Matola  and 
Daudi  are  gone  too,  and  I  remain  alone  with  Knudsen. 

Our  manuals  of  ethnology  give  a  terrible  picture  of  the  lot  of 
woman  among  primitive  peoples.    "  Beast  of  burden  "  and 

1  This  is  given,  in  a  slightly  different  form,  in  Bishop  Steere's 
Collections  for  a  Handbook  of  the  Yao  language  (p.  105)  :  "  Apitako 
tusimanako  "  ("Where  they  pass,  where  we  meet  "). — [Tr.] 


WOMEN'S  TASKS 


163 


"  slave  "  are  the  epithets  continually  applied  to  her.  Happily 
the  state  of  things  is  not  so  bad  as  we  might  suppose  from  this  ; 
and,  if  we  were  to  take  the  tribes  of  Eastern  Equatorial  Africa 
as  a  sample  of  primitive  peoples  in  general,  the  picture  would 
not,  indeed,  be  reversed,  but  very  considerably  modified. 
The  fact  is  that  the  women  are  in  no  danger  of  killing  them- 
selves with  hard  work — no  one  ever  saw  a  native  woman 
walking  quickly,  and  even  the  indispensable  work  of  the  home 
is  done  in  such  a  leisurely  and  easy-going  way  that  many  a 
German  housewife  might  well  envy  them  the  time  they  have 
to  spare.  Among  the  inland  tribes,  indeed,  the  women  have 
a  somewhat  harder  time  :  the  luxuries  of  the  coast  are  not  to 
be  had  ;  children  are  more  numerous  and  give  more  trouble  ; 
and — greatest  difference  of  all — there  are  no  bazaars  or  shops 
like  those  of  the  Indians,  where  one  can  buy  everything  as 
easily  as  in  Europe.  So  there  is  no  help  for  it ;  wives  and 
daughters  must  get  to  work  by  sunrise  at  the  mortar,  the 
winno wing-basket,  or  the  grinding-stones. 

At  six  in  the  morning  the  European  was  tossing  restlessly 
in  his  narrow  bed — tossing  is  perhaps  scarcely  the  right 
expression,  for  in  a  narrow  trough  like  this  such  freedom  of 
movement  is  only  possible  when  broad  awake  and  to  a  person 
possessing  some  skill  in  gymnastics.  The  night  had  brought 
scant  refreshment.  In  the  first  place  a  small  conflagration 
took  place  just  as  I  was  going  to  bed.  Kibwana,  the  stupid, 
clumsy  fellow,  has  broken  off  a  good  half  of  my  last  lamp-glass 
in  cleaning  it.  It  will  still  burn,  thanks  to  the  brass  screen 
which  protects  it  from  the  wind,  but  it  gives  out  a  tremendous 
heat.  It  must  have  been  due  to  this  accident  that  at  the 
moment  when  I  had  just  slightly  lifted  the  mosquito-net  to 
slip  under  it  like  lightning  and  cheat  the  unceasing  vigilance 
of  the  mosquitoes,  I  suddenly  saw  a  bright  light  above  and 
behind  me.  I  turned  and  succeeded  in  beating  out  the  flames 
in  about  three  seconds,  but  this  was  long  enough  to  burn  a 
hole  a  foot  square  in  the  front  of  the  net.  Kibwana  wfll  have 
to  sew  it  up  with  a  piece  of  sanda,  and  in  the  meantime  it 
can  be  closed  with  a  couple  of  pins. 

Tired  out  at  last  I  sank  on  my  bed,  and  dropped  into  an 
uneasy  slumber.  It  was  perhaps  two  o'clock  when  I  started 
up,  confused  and  dazed  with  a  noise  which  made  me  wonder 


164  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


if  the  Indian  Ocean  had  left  its  bed  to  flood  this  plain  as  of 
old.  The  tent  shook  and  the  poles  threatened  to  break ;  all 
nature  was  in  an  uproar,  and  presently  new  sounds  were  heard 
through  the  roaring  of  the  storm — a  many- voiced  bellowing 
from  the  back  of  the  tent — shouts,  cries  and  scolding  from  the 
direction  of  the  prison,  where  my  soldiers  were  now  awake 
and  stumbling  helplessly  hither  and  thither  in  the  pitchy 
darkness  round  the  haraza.  A  terrific  roar  arose  close  beside 
my  tent-wall.  Had  the  plague  of  lions  followed  us  here  from 
Masasi  ?  Quick  as  thought  I  shpped  out  from  under  the 
curtain  and  felt  in  the  accustomed  place  for  my  match-box. 
It  was  not  there,  nor  was  it  to  be  found  elsewhere  in  the  tent. 
Giving  up  the  search,  I  threw  myself  into  my  khaki  suit, 
shouting  at  the  same  time  for  the  sentinel  and  thus  adding 
to  the  noise.  But  no  sentinel  appeared.  I  stepped  out  and, 
by  the  light  of  the  firebrands  wielded  by  the  soldiers,  saw  them 
engaged  in  a  struggle  with  a  dense  mass  of  great  black  beasts. 
These,  however,  proved  to  be  no  lions,  but  Matola's  peaceful 
cattle.  A  calf  had  been  taken  away  from  its  mother  two  days 
before  ;  she  had  kept  up  a  most  piteous  lowing  ever  smce,  and 
finally,  during  the  uproar  of  the  storm,  broke  out  of  the  kraal, 
the  whole  herd  following  her.  The  two  bulls  glared  with 
wildly-rolling  eyes  at  the  torches  brandished  in  their  faces, 
while  the  younger  animals  bellowed  in  terror.  At  last  we 
drove  them  back,  and  with  infinite  trouble  shut  them  once 
more  into  the  kraal. 

The  white  man  in  the  tent  has  fallen  asleep  once  more,  and 
is  dreaming.  The  nocturnal  skirmish  with  the  cattle  has 
suggested  another  sort  of  fight  with  powder  and  shot  against 
Songea's  hostile  Wangoni.  The  shots  ring  out  on  both  sides 
at  strangely  regular  intervals  ;  suddenly  they  cease.  What 
does  this  mean  ?  Is  the  enemy  planning  a  flanking  movement 
to  circumvent  my  small  force  ?  or  is  he  creeping  up  noiselessly 
through  the  high  grass  ?  I  give  the  word  of  command,  and 
spring  forward,  running  my  nose  against  tin  box  No.  3,  which 
serves  as  my  war  chest  and  therefore  has  its  abode  inside  the 
tent  opposite  my  bed.  My  leap  has  unconsciously  delivered 
me  from  all  imaginary  dangers  and  brought  me  back  to  reality. 
The  platoon  fire  begins  again — bang  !  bang  !  bang  ! — and  in 
spite  of  the  confused  state  in  which  the  events  of  the  night 


WOMEN  AT  THE  MORTAR 


165 


have  left  my  head,  I  am  forced  to  laugh  aloud.  The  regular 
rifle-fire  is  the  rhythmic  pounding  of  the  pestles  wielded  by  two 
Yao  women  in  Matola's  compound,  who  are  preparing  the 
daily  supply  of  maize  and  millet  meal  for  the  chief's  household. 

I  have  often  seen  women  and  girls  at  this  work,  but  to-day 
I  feel  as  if  I  ought  to  give  special  attention  to  these  particular 
nymphs,  having  already  established  a  psychical  rapport  with 
them.  It  does  not  take  long  to  dress,  nor,  when  that  is 
finished,  to  drink  a  huge  cup  of  cocoa  and  eat  the  usual  omelette 
with  bananas,  and  then,  without  loss  of  time  I  make  for  the 
group  of  women,  followed  by  my  immediate  bodyguard  carrying 
the  camera  and  the  cinematograph. 

I  find  there  are  four  women — two 
of  them  imperturbably  pounding  away 
with  the  long,  heavy  pestle,  which, 
however,  no  longer  resembles  cannon 
or  rifle  fire,  but  makes  more  of  a 
clapping  sound.  Matola  explains  that 
there  is  now  maize  in  the  mortars, 
w^hile  in  the  early  morning  they  had 
been  pounding  mtania  and  making  the 
thundering  noise  which  disturbed  my 
repose.  This  grain  is  husked  dry, 
then  winnowed,  afterwards  washed 

and  finally  placed  in  a  flat  basket  to  dry  in  the  sun 
for  an  hour  and  a  half.  Not  till  this  has  been  done  can  it  be 
ground  on  the  stone  into  flour.  Maize,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
first  husked  by  pounding  in  a  wet  mortar,  and  then  left  to 
soak  in  water  for  three  days.  It  is  then  washed  and  pounded. 
The  flour  will  keep  if  dried. 

After  a  while  the  pounding  ceases,  the  women  draw  long 
breaths  and  wipe  the  perspiration  from  their  faces  and  chests. 
It  has  been  hard  work,  and,  performed  as  it  is  day  by  day, 
it  brings  about  the  disproportionate  development  of  the  upper 
arm  muscles  which  is  so  striking  in  the  otherwise  slight  figures 
of  the  native  women.  With  a  quick  turn  of  the  hand,  the 
third  woman  has  now  taken  the  pounded  mass  out  of  the 
mortar  and  put  it  into  a  flat  basket  about  two  feet  across. 
Then  comes  the  winnowing  ;  stroke  on  stroke  at  intervals  of 
ten  and  twenty  seconds,  the  hand  with  the  basket  describes  a 


WOMAN   POUNDING  AT 
THE  MORTAR. 
DRAWN   BY  SALIM  MATOLA 


166  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


semicircle,  open  below — not  with  a  uniform  motion,  but  in  a 
series  of  jerks.  Now  one  sees  the  husks  separating  themselves 
from  the  grain,  the  purpose  served  by  the  mortar  becomes 
manifest,  and  I  find  that  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
production  of  flour,  but  serves  merely  to  get  off  the  husk. 

The  winnowing  is  quickly  done,  and  with  a  vigorous  jerk  the 
shining  grain  flies  into  another  basket.  This  is  now  seized  by 
the  fourth  woman,  a  plump  young  thing  who  has  so  far  been 
squatting  idly  beside  the  primitive  mill  of  all  mankind,  the 
flat  stone  on  which  the  first  handful  of  the  grain  is  now  laid. 
Now  some  life  comes  into  her — the  upper  stone  passes  crunching 
over  the  grains — the  mass  becomes  whiter  and  finer  with  each 
push,  but  the  worker  becomes  visibly  warm.  After  a  time  the 
first  instalment  is  vesidy,  and  glides  slowly  down,  pushed  in 
front  of  the  "  runner  "  into  the  shallow  bowl  placed  beneath 
the  edge  of  the  lower  stone.  The  woman  draws  breath,  takes 
up  a  fresh  handful  and  goes  to  work  again. 

This  preparation  of  flour  is,  as  it  was  everywhere  in  ancient 
times,  and  still  is  among  the  maize-eating  Indians  of  America, 
the  principal  occupation  of  the  women.  It  is,  on  account  of 
the  primitive  character  of  the  implements,  certainly  no  easy 
task,  but  is  not  nearly  so  hard  on  them  as  the  field-work  which, 
with  us,  falls  to  the  lot  of  every  day-labourer's  wife,  every 
country  maid-servant,  and  the  wives  and  daughters  of  small 
farmers.  I  should  like  to  see  the  African  woman  who  would 
do  the  work  of  one  German  harvest  to  the  end  without 
protesting  and  running  away. 

The  care  of  the  household  is  not  unduly  onerous.  The  poor 
man's  wife  in  our  own  country  cannot  indeed  command  a  great 
variety  of  dishes,  but  her  housekeeping  is  magnificence  itself 
compared  with  the  eternal  monotony  of  native  cooking — 
millet-porridge  to-day,  maize-porridge  to-morrow,  and  manioc- 
porridge  the  day  after,  and  then  da  capo.  It  may  be  admitted 
that  the  preparation  of  this  article  of  diet  is  perhaps  not  so 
simple  as  it  seems.  I  might  suggest  a  comparison  with  the 
Thiiringen  dumpling,  which  takes  the  inspiration  of  genius  to 
prepare  faultlessly — but  surely  the  most  stupid  negress  must 
some  time  or  other  arrive  at  the  secret  of  making  ugali  properly. 
Knudsen,  in  his  enthusiasm  for  everything  genuinely  African, 
eats  the  stuff  with  intense  relish — to  me  it  always  tastes  hke 


MY  DOMESTIC  STAFF 


167 


a  piece  of  linen  just  out  of  the  suds.  The  operation  is  simple 
enough  in  principle — you  bring  a  large  pot  of  water  to  the  boil 
and  gradually  drop  in  the  necessary  meal,  stirring  all  the  time. 
The  right  consistency  is  reached  when  the  whole  contents  of 
the  pot  have  thickened  to  a  glassy,  translucent  mass.  If  a 
European  dish  is  wanted  for  comparison,  we  need  only  recall 
the  polenta  of  Northern  Italy,  which  is  prepared  in  a  similar 
way,  and  tastes  very  much  the  same. 

I  am  glad  to  say  that  my  own  cook's  performances  go  far 
beyond  those  of  the  local  housewives,  though  his  ability — and 
still  more,  unfortunately,  his  willingness — leave  much  to  be 
desired.  Omari's  very  appearance  is  unique— a  pair  of  tiny, 
short  legs,  ending  in  a  kind  of  ducks'  feet,  support  a  dispro- 
portionately long  torso,  with  a  head  which  seems  as  if  it  would 
never  end  at  all ;  the  man,  if  we  may  speak  hyperbolically, 
is  all  occiput.  He  is  a  Bondei  from  the  north  of  the  colony, 
but  of  course  calls  himself  a  Swahili  ;  all  the  back-country 
Washenzi  do,  once  they  have  come  in  contact  with  the  Coast 
civilization  which  is  so  dazzling  in  their  eyes.  Omari  is 
the  only  married  man  among  my  three  servants  ;  he  says 
that  he  has  four  children,  and  speaks  of  his  wife  with  evident 
awe.  She  did  not,  indeed,  let  him  go  till  he  had  provided 
Hberally  for  her  support,  i.e.,  induced  me  to  open  an  account 
of  seven  rupees  a  month  for  her  with  the  firm  who  do  my 
business  at  Dar  es  Salam. 

I  have  put  my  three  blackamoors  into  uniform  khaki  suits, 
whereupon  all  three  have  appointed  themselves  corporals  of 
the  Field  Force,  by  persuading  the  tailor  to  sew  a  chevron 
in  black,  white  and  red  on  their  left  sleeve.  They  are  inex- 
pressibly proud  of  this  distinction,  but  their  virtues,  unfortu- 
nately, have  not  kept  pace  with  their  advancement.  At 
Masasi  I  had  to  begin  by  applying  a  few  tremendous  cuffs  to 
stimulate  Omari's  energy.  This  corrective  has  proved  ineffi- 
cient in  the  case  of  the  other  two,  as  they  will  move  for  nothing 
short  of  the  kiboko.  If  each  of  the  three  had  to  be  character- 
ised by  a  single  trait,  I  should  say  that  Omari  is  superstition 
personified  ;  Moritz,  crystallized  cunning ;  and  Kibwana,  a 
prodigy  of  stupidity  ;  while  a  mania  (which  has  not  yet 
entirely  disappeared)  for  coming  to  me  at  every  spare  moment 
to  demand  an  advance,  is  common  to  all  three.    All  three,  of 


168  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


course,  make  their  exit  in  the  same  hurried  manner.  If  in 
forming  my  ethnographical  collections  I  had  to  deal  entirely 
with  people  like  my  cook,  I  should  not  secure  a  single  specimen. 
The  fellow  displays  an  amulet  on  his  left  arm— a  thin  cord,  with, 
apparently,  a  verse  from  the  Koran  sewn  into  it.  I  remarked 
to  him,  in  an  off-hand  way,  "  Just  sell  me  that  thing  !  "  He 
protested  loudly  that  he  could  not  and  would  not  do  so,  for 
he  would  infallibly  die  the  moment  it  left  his  arm.  Since  then 
I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  amusing  myself  by  now  and  then 
making  him  an  offer  for  his  talisman  ;   on  each  successive 


he  brought  me  the  following  day,  drawn  on  the  reverse  of  the 
same  piece  of  paper.  Omari's  Prince  of  Darkness  has  no  less 
than  four  heads,  but  only  two  arms  and  one  leg — at  least  such 
is  the  verbal  description  he  gives  me  ;  his  drawing,  like  his 
map,  is  an  inextricable  chaos  of  crooked  lines.  My  carriers 
are  artists  of  quite  another  stamp.  What  spirit,  for  instance, 
is  shown  in  a  drawing  by  Juma,  usually  the  most  phlegmatic 
of  mortals,  intended  to  represent  a  troop  of  monkeys  attacking 
a  plantation — his  own  shamba  in  point  of  fact.  But  we  shall 
have  to  come  back  later  on  to  the  draughtsmanship  of  the 
natives. 

One  provoking  trick  played  me  by  my  cook  was  connected 
with  my  supply  of  coffee.  I  had  brought  two  large  tins  with 
me  from  Dar  es  Salam,  each  holding  from  six  to  eight  pounds 
of  the  best  Usambara  quality,  one  roasted,  the  other  unroasted. 
According  to  all  human  calculations,  one  tin  should  have 
lasted,  even  allowing  the  maximum  strength  to  my  midday 
cup,  at  least  several  months,  so  that  I  was  quite  taken  aback 
when  my  chef  came  to  me  in  the  middle  of  the  fourth  week 


MONKEYS  ATTACKING  A  PLANTATION. 
DRAWN  BY  JUMA 


occasion  he  raises  the 
same  outcry.  And  as 
for  his  drawing  !  At 
Lindi,  he  once  brought 
me  the  map  of  his  native 
country,  charted  by 
himself  on  a  piece  of 
greasy  paper.  No  one 
could  make  head  or  tail 
of  it,  except  perhaps  the 
devil  whose  presentment 


MY  COOK  ENTERTAINS 


169 


with  the  laconic  announcement,  "  Kahawa  imekwisha  "  ("  The 
coffee  is  finished  ").  A  strict  investigation  followed.  Omari 
insisted  that  he  had  used  two  spoonfuls  a  day  for  me.  I  told 
Moritz  to  open  the  second  tin  and  measure  out  with  the  same 
spoon  the  quantity  which,  on  his  own  showing,  he  should  in 
the  worst  case  have  consumed.  This  was  done  without 
appreciably  diminishing  the  quantity  in  the  huge  canister. 
Upon  this  I  told  him  to  his  face  that  he  had  used  part  of  the 
coffee  himself,  and  sold  part  of  it  to  his  friends  the  soldiers. 
"  Hapana,''''  was  his  onh'  answer.  The  only  way  to  escape  this 
systematic  robbery  is  by  daily  measuring  out  the  necessary 
quantity  with  one's  own  hands,  but  this  takes  up  far  too 
much  of  the  time  so  urgently  required  for  work.  This  necessity 
for  ceaseless  supervision  was  proved  to  me,  moreover,  by 
another  incident.  Kibwana  and  Moritz  usually  take  it  in 
turns  to  be  on  the  sick  list,  and  sometimes,  in  fact,  frequently, 
both  are  incapacitated  at  the  same  time,  usually  by  fever. 
Moritz,  a  few  days  ago,  declared  himself  about  to  die — but  not 
here  at  Chingulungulu  :  dying  is  so  much  easier  at  Lindi. 
Nils  Knudsen,  with  his  soft  Viking  heart,  compassionated  the 
poor  boy  to  such  a  degree  that  I  was  at  last  morallv  compelled 
to  make  use,  although  it  was  not  regulation  time,  of  my  clinical 
thermometer  :  my  model  medicine  chest,  I  may  remark,  only 
contains  one  of  these  useful  instruments.  The  patient — at  the 
point  of  death — registered  normal.  Moritz,  this  time,  recovered 
with  astonishing  rapidity. 

On  another  occasion,  however,  he  was  really  ill,  and  I 
allowed  him  to  make  himself  a  large  jug  of  my  cocoa  in  the 
morning.  Full  of  forebodings,  I  went  across  to  the  kitchen, 
at  his  breakfast-time,  and  not  onl}^  found  him  revelling  in 
comfort,  but  also  the  whole  of  m}^  party  being  regaled  by  the 
cook  in  the  most  generous  way  with  the  contents  of  one  out  of 
my  eight  tins.  Can  one  be  expected  to  refrain  from  using  the 
kiboko  ? 

The  local  amusements  not  being  carried  on  at  my  expense 
are  decidedly  more  enjo^'able  than  the  above.  The  beer-drink- 
ings  here  take  place,  not,  as  at  Masasi,  in  the  morning,  but  in 
the  afternoon.  ]\Ioritz  must  have  a  flair  for  festivities  of 
this  sort,  since,  whenever  he  acts  as  guide  in  my  afternoon 
strolls  in  search  of  knowledge,  we  are  sure  to  come  upon 


170  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


a  mighty  company  of  tippling  men,  women,  and  children. 
The  love  for  strong  drink  seems  thus  to  be  pretty  strongly 
developed,  though  there  is  this  year  no  special  occasion  to 
serve  as  an  excuse  for  drinking  at  Matola's.  The  most 
prominent  of  such  occasions  here  in  the  south  is  the  unyago, 
the  ceremony  of  initiation  into  manhood  and  womanhood,  of 
which  I  have  heard  again  and  again,  from  men  as  well  as 
from  youths,  though  so  far  I  have  not  set  eyes  on  the  least 
trace  of  such  an  arrangement.  At  present  I  do  not  even  see 
the  possibility  of  personally  witnessing  the  proceedings,  which, 
by  all  one  hears,  seem  to  be  extremely  complicated.  I  am 
determined,  however,  that  it  shall  somehow  come  to  pass. 

The  reason  why  there  is  no  unyago  this  year  at  Chingulungulu 
lies  in  the  arrangement  by  which  each  village  keeps  the  festival 
in  turn — probably  on  account  of  the  expense,  which  is  no  trifle. 
Besides  the  enormous  quantity  of  pomhe  drunk  at  the  many 
dances,  huge  supplies  of  provisions  are  required  for  the  visitors 
who  come  far  and  near  to  attend  the  celebration  ;  and,  finally, 
calico  has  to  be  bought  at  the  Coast,  both  for  the  new  garments 
in  which  the  initiated  are  to  appear  after  the  ceremony, 
and  for  the  fees  to  their  instructors,  male  and  female.  I  have 
no  greater  wish  than  to  get  a  thorough  insight  into  this  custom 
of  all  others,  since,  so  far  as  I  am  acquainted  with  the  literature 
relating  to  Africa,  this  part  of  the  sociological  field  is  stiU 
almost  if  not  entirely  untilled. 

Meanwhile,  the  men  amuse  themselves  and  me  in  other  ways. 
Even  before  I  left  Masasi,  I  saw  the  people  running  together 
with  the  cry,  "  Sulila  amekuja  "  ("  Sulila  has  come  !  "),  and 
a  great  crowd  collected  round  a  man  who  was  evidently  a 
stranger.  This  man  is,  to  begin  with,  remarkable  for  the  fact 
that,  though  stone  blind,  he  wanders  all  over  the  southern  part 
of  East  Africa  in  perfect -safety.  It  is  true  that  he  had  a  com- 
panion, but  this  man,  so  far  from  being  his  guide,  walked 
behind  him,  carrying  the  bard's  professional  paraphernalia. 
Sulila,  who  belongs  to  the  Yao  tribe,  is,  in  fact,  a  professional 
singer.  He  offered  of  his  own  accord  to  give  a  performance 
for  my  benefit  and  had  completed  his  preparations  in  a  twink- 
ling. The  implements  of  his  craft  are  simple  enough.  He  has 
his  band  formed  afresh  on  the  spot  when  wanted  :  six  or  eight 
men  come  forward,  squat  down  in  a  square,  each  laj^s  down 


SULILA  AND  HIS  BAND 


171 


THE   BLIND   BARD  SULILA   OUTSIDE   THE   BOMA   AT  MASASI 

before  him  a  log  stripped  of  the  bark  and  about  as  thick  as  one's 
arm,  takes  a  stick  in  each  hand  and  awaits  the  signal  to  begin. 
The  master  in  the  meantime  has  adorned  himself  with  the 
utmost  splendour,  attaching  to  his  knees  and  ankles  sets  of 
rattles  w^hich  consist  of  hard-shelled  fruits  as  large  as  moderate- 
sized  apples,  strung  on  leather  thongs.  Round  his  waist  he 
wears  a  kilt  composed  of  whole  skins  and  strips  of  skins  of 
various  wild  animals — wild  cats,  monkeys,  leopards — and, 
finally,  his  head  is  decorated  and  his  face  shaded  by  the  mane 
of  a  zebra  or  some  large  kind  of  antelope,  looking  like  a  barbaric 
crown. 

Suhla  has  taken  his  place  in  the  centre  of  his  band,  holding 
his  stringed  instrument  in  his  left  hand,  and  its  bow  in  his  right. 
This  instrument  is  a  monochord  with  a  cylindrical  resonator 
cut  out  of  a  solid  block  of  wood,  the  string,  twisted  out  of  some 
hair  from  the  tail  of  one  of  the  great  indigenous  mammals,  is 
fastened  to  a  round  piece  of  wood.  Instead  of  rosin,  he 
passes  his  tongue  over  the  string  of  his  bow,  which  he  then  lifts 
and  applies  to  the  string,  bringing  out  a  plaintive  note,  imme- 
diately followed  by  a  terrible  bellow  from  Sulila  himself  and 
an  ear-splitting  noise  from  the  "  xylophones  "  of  the  band. 


172 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Strictly  speaking,  I  am  inclined  to  regret  having  come  out  on 
a  scientific  mission  :  there  is  an  inexpressible  delight  in  seeing 
this  strange  artist  at  work,  and  every  diversion  caused  by  the 
working  of  the  apparatus  means  a  loss  of  enjoyment.  Sulila  is 
reall}^  working  hard — without  intermission  he  coaxes  out  of  his 
primitive  instrument  the  few  notes  of  which  it  is  capable,  and 
which  are  low,  and  quite  pleasing.  Equally  incessant  is  his 
singing,  which,  however,  is  less  pleasing,  at  least  for  Europeans. 
His  native  audience  seem  to  accept  it  as  music  par  excellencCy 
for  they  are  simply  beside  themselves  with  enthusiasm.  Sulila's 
voice  is  harsh,  but  powerful  ;  it  is  possible  that  its  strength 
to  some  extent  depends  on  his  blindness,  as,  like  a  deaf  man,  he 
is  unable  to  estimate  the  extent  of  the  sound-waves  he  produces. 
He  takes  his  words  at  such  a  frantic  pace  that,  though  my  ear 
is  now  somewhat  accustomed  to  the  Yao  language,  I  can 
scarcely  distinguish  one  here  and  there. 

But  the  most  charming  of  all  Sulila's  accomplishments  is 
the  third,  for  he  not  only  plays  and  sings,  but  dances  also. 
His  dance  begins  with  a  rhythmic  swaying  of  the  knees,  keeping 
time  to  the  notes  of  his  fiddle,  while,  with  the  characteristic 
uncertainty  of  the  blind  his  face  turns  from  side  to  side.  After 
a  time  the  swaying  becomes  deeper  and  quicker,  the  dancer 
begins  to  turn,  slowly  at  first,  and  then  more  rapidly,  at  last 
he  revolves  at  a  tearing  speed  on  his  axis.  His  bow  tears 
along  likewise,  his  voice  sets  the  neighbouring  bush  vibrating, 
the  band  hammer  away  like  madmen  on  their  logs — it  is  a 
veritable  pandemonium,  and  the  public  is  in  raptures. 

As  already  stated,  I  could  not  help  secretly  regretting  the 
impossibility  of  giving  myself  up  unreservedly  to  the  impression 
of  these  performances,  but  the  duty  of  research  must  always  be 
the  predominant  consideration.  The  hours  spent  over  the 
camera,  cinematograph,  and  phonograph,  involve  more  hard 
work  than  amusement.  This  cannot  be  helped,  but,  if  some 
of  the  results  turn  out  satisfactorily,  as  has  fortunately  hap- 
pened in  my  case,  all  difficulties  and  discomfort  are  abundantly 
compensated. 

It  is  not  easy  to  get  phonographic  records  of  the  voice,  even 
from  natives  who  can  see.  You  place  the  singer  in  front  of  the 
apparatus,  and  explain  how  he  has  to  hold  his  head,  and  that 
he  must  sing  right  into  the  centre  of  the  funnel.    "  Do  you 


SULILA'S  WAR-SONG 


173 


understand  ?  "  you  ask  him  on  the  conclusion  of  the  lecture. 
"  Ndio  "  ("  Yes  "),  he  answers,  as  a  matter  of  course.  Cautious, 
as  one  has  to  be,  once  for  all,  in  Africa,  you  make  a  trial  by 
letting  him  sing  without  winding  up  the  apparatus.  The  man 
is  still  shy  and  sings  too  low,  and  has  to  be  encouraged  with  a 
*'  Kwimha  sana  ("  Sing  louder  !  ").  After  a  second  trial — 
sometimes  a  third  and  fourth — the  right  pitch  is  found.  I  set 
the  apparatus,  give  the  signal  agreed  on,  and  singer  and 
machine  start  off  together.  For  a  time  all  goes  well — the  man 
stands  like  a  column.  Then  something  disturbs  his  balance. 
He  turns  his  head  uneasily  from  side  to  side,  and  there  is  just 
time  to  disconnect  the  apparatus  and  begin  instructions  again 
from  the  beginning.  This  is  what  usually  happens  ;  in  many 
cases  undoubtedly  it  was  vanity  which  induced  the  singer 
coquettishly  to  turn  his  head  to  right  and  left,  saying  as 
plainly  as  words  could  have  done,  "  See  what  a  fine  fellow  I  am  !  " 

With  Sulila  the  case  is  much  worse.  He  is  so  in  the  habit  of 
moving  his  head  about  that  he  cannot  stop  it  when  standing 
before  the  phonograph,  and  the  first  records  made  of  his  voice 
are  terribly  metallic.  With  the  swift  impulsiveness  which 
distinguishes  me,  and  which,  though  I  have  often  found  cause 
to  regret  it,  has  repeatedly  done  me  good  service  in  this  country, 
I  now  make  a  practice  of  seizing  the  blind  minstrel  by  the  scruff 
of  the  neck  the  moment  he  lifts  up  his  leonine  voice,  and 
holding  his  woolly  head  fast  as  in  a  vice,  regardless  of  all  his 
struggles;  till  he  has  roared  out  his  rhapsody  to  the  end.  Most 
of  the  songs  I  have  hitherto  heard  from  Yao  performers  are  of 
a  martial  character.  Here  is  one  which  Sulila  sang  into  the 
phonograph  at  Masasi  on  July  24  : — 

Tulimbe,  achakulungwa  !  Wausyaga  ngondo,  nichichi  ?  Watigi: 
Kunsulila  ( ' )  kanapagwe.  Jaiche  ja  Masito;u  ti  toakukwimi.  Wa  gwa- 
site(?)  Nambo  Wandachi  pajaiche,  kogopa  kuona  :  msitu  watiniche  ; 
mbaraba  syatiniche  ;  mbusi  syatiniche  ;  nguku  syatiniche  ;  kumala 
wandu  putepute  ;  ilokodi  papopu  ;  kupeleka  mbia  syakalume. 
Gakuunda(?)  Mtima  wasupwiche :  Ngawile  pesipo  Luja.  Kunsulila 
ngomba  sim  yaule  kwa  Bwana  mkubwa  :  Nam (u) no  anduwedye 
atayeye  mapesa  gao.    Sambano  yo  nonembesile. 

The  meaning  of  this  is  : — 

"  Let  us  be  brave,  we  elders.    They  asked  :  What  is  a  war  ? 

( 1 )  This  form  shows  that  the  name  is  really  Nsulila,  though  the  n  is 
often  not  heard,  and  may  be  really  dropped,  in  speaking. — [Tr.] 


174  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


They  sa}^ :  '  Mr.  Sulila  is  not  yet  born.'  Then  comes  (the  war) 
of  the  Mazitu  ;  guns  are  fired  ;  then  they  ran  away.  But  the 
Germans  came  ;  it  was  dangerous  to  see  ;  the  bush  was  burnt, 
the  ants  were  burnt,  the  goats  were  burnt,  the  fowls  were 
burnt — the  people  were  finished  up  altogether  ;  the  tax  came 
up  (they  had)  to  bring  a  hundred  jars  (of  rupees).  They  were 
not  satisfied.  (Their)  heart  was  frightened.  Mr.  Sulila  tele- 
graphed to  the  District  Commissioner  :  '  He  may  skin  me  to 
make  a  bag  for  his  money.'    Now  I  am  tired." 

The  tribes  in  the  south-eastern  part  of  our  colony  are  very 
backward  as  regards  music  ;  they  have  nothing  that  can  be 
called  tune,  and  their  execution  never  gets  beyond  a  rapid 
recitative.  In  both  respects,  all  of  them,  Yaos,  Makua  and 
Wanyasa  alike,  are  far  behind  my  Wanyamwezi,  who  excel  in 
both.  Only  in  one  point  the  advantage  rests  with  the  southern 
tribes — the  words  of  their  songs  have  some  connected  meaning, 
and  even  occasional  touches  of  dramatic  force.  This  is 
remarkably  illustrated  by  Sulila's  song. 

The  Mazitu  have  made  one  of  their  usual  raids  on  the 
unsuspecting  inhabitants  of  the  Central  Rovuma  district. 
Which  of  the  many  sanguinary  raids  on  record  is  meant 
cannot  be  gathered  from  the  words  of  the  song,  it  may  be  one 
of  those  which  took  place  in  the  eighties  and  nineties,  or  the 
recent  rising — probably  the  latter,  since,  so  far  as  I  am  aware, 
there  was  never  any  question  of  taxes  in  the  previous  dis- 
turbances. In  this  case,  moreover,  it  is  not  so  much  a  war-tax 
that  is  referred  to,  as  the  payment  of  the  hut-tax  introduced 
some  years  ago,  which  has  during  the  last  few  months  been 
paid  in  at  Lindi  with  surprising  willingness  by  people  who  had 
been  more  or  less  openly  disaffected.  This  may  be  looked  on 
as  a  direct  consequence  of  the  prompt  and  vigorous  action 
taken  by  the  authorities. 

The  interference  of  the  Germans  marks  a  turning  point 
in  the  fighting  of  the  natives  among  themselves.  The  feeling 
that  more  serious  evils  are  coming  upon  them  is  expressed 
in  terms  of  their  thought  by  speaking  of  the  destruction  of 
all  property.  First  the  bush  is  burnt,  and  all  the  ants  in  it 
destroyed,  then  comes  the  turn  of  the  goats,  which  here  in 
the  south  are  not  very  numerous,  though  the  fowls,  which 
are  the  next  to  perish,  are.    Finally,  many  people  are  killed — 


THE  MINSTRELSY  OF  :\IR.  RAT  175 


Sulila  in  his  ecstasy  says  all.  Now  come  the  conditions  of 
peace  imposed  by  the  victorious  Germans  :  a  heavy  tax  in 
rupees,  which  must  be  paid  whether  they  hke  it  or  not.  In  the 
ej^es  of  those  immediately  affected  the  sum  assumes  gigantic 
proportions,  they  become  uneasy  and  contemplate  the  step 
which,  here  in  the  south  may  be  said  to  be  always  in  the  air — 
that  of  escaping  the  consequences  of  the  war  by  an  emigration 
en  masse.  Then  appears  the  hero  and  deliverer— no  other  than 
Sulila  himself.  In  the  consciousness  of  his  high  calling, 
he,  the  poor  blind  man,  proudl}^  calls  himself  "  Mr.  Sulila."  ^ 
He  sees  his  country  already  traversed  by  one  of  the  most 
wonderful  inventions  of  the  white  strangers — the  telegraph 
wire.  He  telegraphs  at  once  to  the  Bwana  mkubwa,  that 
his  countrymen  are  ready  to  submit  unconditional^, — they 
have  no  thought  of  resistance,  but  they  have  no  mone3\  And 
they  are  so  terrified  that  the  Bwana  might  if  he  chose  skin 
them  to  make  a  bag  for  the  rupees — they  would  not  think  of 
resisting.  This  is  the  end  of  the  song  proper — the  last  sentence, 
"  Now  I  am  tired,"  is  a  personal  utterance  on  the  part  of  the 
performer  himself,  fatigued  by  the  unwonted  mental  effort  of 
dictation. 

Here  at  Chingulungulu  there  are  several  such  minstrels. 
The  most  famous  of  them  is  Che  Likoswe,  "  Mr.  Rat,"  who, 
at  every  appearance  is  greeted  with  a  universal  murmur  of 
applause.  Salanga  has  a  still  more  powerful  voice,  but  is 
so  stupid  that  he  has  not  yet  succeeded  in  dictating  the  words 
of  one  song.  If  I  could  venture  to  reproduce  my  records  I 
could  at  once  obtain  an  accurate  text,  with  the  help  of  the 
more  intelhgent  among  the  audience ;  but  I  dare  not  attempt 
this  at  the  present  temperature,  usually  about  88°.  I  will, 
however,  at  least,  give  two  songs  of  Che  Likoswe's.  One 
of  them  is  short  and  instructive,  and  remains  well  within  the 
sphere  of  African  thought,  that  is  to  say,  it  only  contains 
one  idea,  repeated  ad  infinitum  by  solo  and  chorus  alternately. 

Solo  : — "  Ulendo  u  Che  Kandangu  imasile.  Imanga 
kukaranga "  (  "  Mr.  Kandangu's  journey  is  ended.  The 
maize  is  roasted  "  ). 

1  This  is  not  necessarily  implied  by  the  use  of  Che  or  Ku.  Every 
Yao  uses  these  prefixes  of  himself  and  his  neighbours  ;  even  small 
children  are  Kuluponje  or  Chendilijika,  etc. — [Tr.] 


176 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Chorus  :  "...  Ulendo  u  Che  Kandangu.  .  ." 

Che  Likoswe's  "  get-up  "  and  dehvery  are  very  much 
the  same  as  Suhla's,  except  that,  in  conformity  with  his  name, 
he  sings,  fiddles  and  dances  still  more  vivaciously  than  his 
blind  colleague,  who  is  also  an  older  man.  He  is,  moreover, 
extremely  versatile — it  is  all  one  to  him  whether  he  mimes 
on  the  ground,  or  on  tall  stilts — a  sight  which  struck  me 
with  astonishment  the  first  time  I  beheld  it.  The  song  itself, 
of  course,  refers  to  a  journey  in  which  he  himself  took  part. 
The  most  important  incident  from  the  native  point  of  view 
is,  that  all  the  maize  taken  with  them  by  the  travellers  was 
roasted — i.e.,  consumed,  before  the  goal  was  reached.  Mr. 
Rat's  other  song  is  much  more  interesting  ;  it  has  an  unmis- 
takable affinity  with  Sulila's  war-song,  and  gains  in  actuality 
for  me  personally,  because  it  is  concerned  with  Mr.  Linder, 
the  excellent  agricultural  inspector  of  the  Lindi  municipality, 
to  whom  I  owe  many  valuable  suggestions,  and  who,  on 
account  of  his  thorough  acquaintance  with  this  very  district, 
had  originally  been  selected  as  my  companion.  Linder 
rendered  splendid  service  in  suppressing  the  rebellion  :  while 
any  action  on  the  part  of  the  Field  Force  was  still  entirely 
out  of  the  question,  he  had  already,  with  a  small  detachment 
of  police,  repulsed  numerous  attacks  of  the  rebels,  and  ulti- 
mately sustained  a  serious  wound.  But  while  decorations 
have  been  simply  raining  down  on  the  Navy  and  the  Schutz- 
truppe,  Bwana  Linda  still  walks  among  mortals  without  a  single 
order.    He  is,  however,  a  philosopher  as  well  as  a  hero. 

The  song  runs  as  follows  : — 

Ulendo  wa  Linda  (er)  ;  pa  kwenda  ku  Masasi  na  gumiri  chikuo  : 
mkasalile  mbwana  mkubwa  ngondo  jaiche  nand  autwiche  lunga 
yangadye.  Mkasalile  akida  Matora  :  ngondo  jaiche  na  gombel(r)e 
lildmbe.  Tukujir(l)a  Masasi ;  Mwera  kupita  mchikasa  mpaka  pe  Lindi. 
Ne  wapere  rukhsa.    Yendeye  ku  mangwenu  ;   mkapande  mapemba. 

The  translation  is  as  follows  : — 

"  The  journey  of  Linder,  when  he  went  to  Masasi,  and  I 
shouted  with  a  shouting. — '  Tell  the  Bwana  Mkubwa,  war 
has  come,  and  I  ran  away  without  looking  back.  Tell  the 
akida  Matora,  (that)  the  war  has  come,  and  I  have  beaten 
the  great-drum.'  Then  we  went  to  Masasi,  the  Wamwera  are 
beaten  and  go  as  far  as  Lindi,  and  they  get  permission.  '  Go 
to  your  homes,  and  plant  Mapemba  (sorghum).'  " 


LINDER'S  ULENDO 


177 


This  is  delivered  in  very  quick  recitative,  and  relates  in  a 
few  words  the  history  of  the  whole  campaign,  of  course  making 
the  singer  the  central  point.  Mr.  Linder  comes  to  Masasi  in 
the  course  of  one  of  his  official  tours,  his  principal  duty  being 
to  ascertain  whether  the  local  headmen  have  cultivated  the 
various  crops  prescribed  by  government.  There  the  loyal 
Likoswe  of  course  hastens  to  him  and  warns  him  of  impending 
hostilities  on  the  part  of  the  Wamwera.  Linder  in  his  turn 
sends  word  to  the  District  Comxmissioner  at  Lindi,  and  at  the 
same  time  despatches  Likoswe  with  an  urgent  message  to 
Matola's.  Likoswe,  on  arriving,  beats  the  war-drum  (lilombe), 
Matola's  warriors  immediately  hasten  to  the  spot,  six  hundred 
men  with  guns  and  many  more  with  spears,  bows  and  arrows, 
and  the  chief  marches  on  Masasi,  to  take  the  Wamwera  in 
the  rear.  It  is  related  as  a  fact  that  Seliman  Mamba  and  his 
subordinates  had  each,  at  the  beginning  of  the  rising  when 
their  hopes  were  highest  and  they  already  saw  the  Germans 
driven  into  the  sea,  fixed  on  a  house  at  Lindi  with  all  its 
contents  as  his  own  share  of  the  spoil.  Possibly,  the  line  about 
the  enemy's  going  back  to  Lindi  refers  to  these  unrealised  plans. 
Matola,  I  believe,  lost  about  forty  men  in  fighting  the  rebels, 
but  certainly  did  not  drive  them  back  to  Lindi.  The  last 
sentence  relates  to  the  conclusion  of  peace  : — the  vanquished 
are  pardoned,  and  directed  to  go  home  quietly  and  plant  their 
gardens  once  more. 

My  cinematograph,  too,  has  been  several  times  in  requisition 
during  my  stay  at  Chingulungulu,  as  I  have  found  opportunity 
to  take  a  whole  series  of  dances  of  the  Wayao  and  Makua. 
The  latter,  it  is  well  known,  are  the  hunting-tribe  par  excellence 
of  the  east — indeed  professional  hunters  of  any  tribe  are 
generally  described  as  Makua.  They  are,  moreover,  typical 
for  all  other  tribes  in  their  method  of  hunting,  and  in  all 
appliances  and  customs  connected  therewith.  One  day,  by 
Matola's  orders,  a  troop  appeared  at  Chingulungulu  to  perform, 
as  they  said,  the  makwaru — a  dance  entirely  based  on  the 
details  of  the  hunter's  life.  I  had  quickly  got  my  apparatus 
arranged  in  a  suitable  place,  not  an  easy  matter  here  in  the 
loose  alluvial  soil,  as,  if  one  presses  too  hard  on  the  legs  of  the 
tripod,  they  are  apt  to  sink  into  the  sand  up  to  their  whole 
height.    Grown  wise  by  experience,  I  now  take  the  precaution 

12— (2131) 


178  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


of  driving  a  wooden  wedge  obliquely  from  above  under  each 
leg  before  beginning  operations.  It  is  more  difficult  to  remedy 
the  results  of  a  mistaken  economy.  In  order  to  save  the 
African  Fund  about  twelve  shillings  and  a  quarter  of  a  carrier, 
I  did  not  bring  the  heavy  stand  necessary  for  the  Ernemann 
cinematograph,  thinking  that  I  could  use  my  ordinary  camera- 
stand.  This,  though  excellent  of  its  kind,  is  far  too  light  to 
stand  the  continual  jerks  of  the  cinematograph,  and  I  have  to 
balance  matters  by  hanging  a  heavy  stone  or  one  of  my  packing- 
cases  under  it.    If  matters  become  very  serious  one  of  the 


carriers  has  to  sacrifice  himself  and  do  duty  as  a  tripod-holder. 
Everything  being  now  ready  for  the  makwaru,  the  same  band 
which  figured  at  Sulila's  and  Likoswe's  performances  takes 
its  place.  It  consists  of  six  or  seven  men  and  youths,  squatting 
before  their  long  white  logs  with  their  drumsticks  in  hand. 
Suddenly,  a  fantastically  decorated  something  flashes  into 
the  circle,  moving  so  rapidly  that  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish 
whether  it  is  a  man  or  a  woman.  Being  compelled  to  pause 
for  breath  it  is  revealed  as  a  middle-aged  man  in  a  kilt  of 
long  green  leaves  resembling  a  ballet-dancer's  skirt.  The 
man  scarcely  stirs  from  the  spot,  but  his  skirt  flies  in  the 
wind,  and  he  works  his  feet  in  quick,  regular  time,  while 
at  the  same  time  his  arms  move  in  a  manner  dilficult  to 
describe,  as  there  is  nothing  in  European  dancing  which 
in  the  least  degree  corresponds  to  it  ;  and  both,  arms  and 
legs,  keep  exact  time  with  the  band.    Whether  the  rest 


YAO  DA^•CE   AT  CHIXGULUXGULU 


180  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


of  the  body  in  its  incessant  motion  backwards  and  forwards 
also  keeps  time  it  is  impossible  to  decide,  as  the  vibrations 
are  too  rapid  to  let  the  eye  make  out  the  details.  This  stage 
lasts  so  long  that  I  am  tempted  to  regret  the  waste  of  my 
precious  film. 

At  last  the  hunter  changes  his  tactics.  The  dancer  is,  in 
fact,  a  hunter,  and  not  only  that,  but  a  very  successful  elephant- 
hunter  ;  and  having  just  killed  a  large  elephant,  he  is  celebrating 
this  deed  of  prowess  before  the  assembled  inhabitants  of  his 
native  village,  just  as  he  does  after  his  return  from  the  actual 
hunt.  Here,  too,  the  people  have  collected  from  far  and  near 
to  see  this  celebrity,  and  to  admire  his  skill  in  the  dance.  His 
performance  becomes  more  and  more  vivacious — he  no  longer 
remains  on  one  spot  but  trips  forward,  first  in  a  straight  line, 
then  in  a  zig-zag.  At  last  he  revolves  in  a  circle,  moving  round 
with  short,  cautious  jumps,  and  all  the  time  keeping  up  the 
movements  of  his  arms  and  hips  without  a  moment's  inter- 
mission. After  one  more  rapid  trip  round  the  circle  and  a 
frantic  vibration  of  the  whole  body,  the  dancer  stands  still, 
breathing  deeply. 

This  kind  of  dance  is  too  peculiar,  too  divergent  from  all 
European  standards  for  us  to  judge  of  it  critically  according 
to  the  rules  of  art.  I  had  expected  a  pantomimic  representation 
of  an  elephant-hunt,  or  at  least  of  the  stalking  and  killing  of 
the  game,  and  I  must  confess  that  I  can  find  nothing  in  the 
performance  which  seems  to  have  any  such  reference,  and 
must  confine  myself  to  admiring  the  incredible  dexterity 
shown  by  this  acrobat  in  setting  all  his  muscles  a-quiver.  I 
have  no  sooner  got  a  fresh  film  ready,  than  a  second  dancer 
has  appeared  on  the  scene,  whose  action  is  still  more  curious 
and  perplexing.  At  first  one  sees  nothing  but  a  confused  mass 
of  green  leaves  rolling  and  wTithing  on  the  ground  in  convulsive 
motions.  After  a  while,  this  resolves  itself  into  a  man  much 
like  the  previous  one,  except  that  his  costume  is  much  more 
voluminous.  He  quivers  in  a  masterly  manner  and  shows  as 
much  staying  power  as  his  predecessor  ;  but  his  chief  strength 
lies  in  his  legs,  whose  suppleness  and  power  of  assuming  the 
most  grotesque  attitudes  are  nothing  short  of  marvellous. 
When  he  has  exhausted  his  repertoire  and  made  way  for  a 
third  performer,  we  at  last  get  the  expected  pantomime. 


MAKUA  HUNTING-DANCE 


181 


Stooping  as  if  for  a  spring,  the  hunter  creeps  up 
making  use  of  every  bit  of  cover,  to 
stalk  the  elephant,  whose  scent  is 
exceedingly  keen.  At  last  the  goal 
is  reached — swiftly,  but  as  noise- 
lessly as  the  hunter,  the  quarry, 
represented  by  another  man,  has 
slipped  into  the  arena,  and  squatted 
down,  and  the  hunter  circles  round 
him  in  diminishing  spirals.  We 
expect  the  deadly  shot,  but  it  does 
not  come  off,  and  the  third  dancer, 
quite  regardless  of  the  elephant 
he  is  supposed  to  represent,  begins 
to  "  triumph "  in  precisely  the 
same  way  as  the  two  others, 
practising  highly  artistic  short  steps, 
swaying  his  hips  and  flourishing 
his  arms.  "  Bass^' " — (finished,)  I 
exclaim,  as  the  last  of  my  three  films 
whizzes  off  the  reel. 

Quite  in  contrast  to  these  are 
the  typical  unyago  dances  of  the 
Wayao.  There  seems  to  be  a  great 
variety  of  these  ;  but  so  far  I  have 
only  seen  two  at  Chingulungulu,  a 
masewe,  so  called  from  the  rattles 
worn,  as  already  mentioned,  on  the 
legs  and  feet,  and  a  luwanja.  Both 
are  essentially  the  same  in  char- 
acter. The  primitive  xylophone  of 
the  Makua  hunting-dance  is  here 
replaced  by  a  complete  band  of 
drums,  of  the  most  various  shapes 
and  sizes.  A  certain  musical  faculty 
inherent  in  the  race  is  evidenced 
by  the  fact  that  the  musicians 
take  care  to  tune  up  before 
the  dance  begins.  Each  beats 
his  own  drum,  listening  carefully 


noiselessly. 


A  YAO  DRESSED  FOR  THE 
MASEWE  DANCE 

to  hear  whether  it  is  in 


182  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


tune  with  the  rest,  and  if  not,  hurries  away  to  the  nearest 
hut  and  comes  back  with  a  brand  from  the  hearth  and  a 
large  bundle  of  dry  grass.  The  grass  is  heaped  on  the  ground 
and  set  on  fire,  and  then  every  drum  is  held  with  the  open  end 
over  it,  for  a  longer  or  shorter  time — some  for  a  few  seconds 
only,  some  for  half  a  minute  or  more — the  pitch  being  tested 
by  striking  from  time  to  time.  At  last  all  the  skins  are 
sufficiently  tense  and  the  drumming  begins. 

At  the  same  moment  a  dense  cloud  of  dust  is  seen  ap- 
proaching with  hghtning  speed,  and  discloses  a  seemingly 
endless  procession  of  men,  youths  and  boys,  all  decked  in 


MASlUni   DANCE   OF   THE    VAOS    AT  MTTA 


bundles  of  masewe  at  the  ankle  and  above  the  knee,  and  a 
kilt  of  leaves  and  strips  of  skin  round  the  waist.  They  take 
their  places  in  the  arena  in  front  of  the  band,  and  immediately 
fall  into  position  and  trot  along  in  Indian  file,  till  the  line  closes 
up  into  a  circle  and  moves  round  to  the  left,  then  round  to 
the  right,  and  so  on.  It  is  astonishing  how  uniformly  and 
accurately  the  movements  are  executed  by  every  individual 
performer,  even  the  youngest  boys.  There  is  nothing  very 
exciting  about  this  dance  ;  in  fact,  I  find  all  native  dances 
monotonous,  perhaps  owing  to  the  prevailing  character 
of  the  continent,  which  is  very  uninteresting,  except  in  a 
few  favoured  spots.  Perhaps  a  native  critic,  however,  might 
object  that  there  is  no  great  variety  in  our  waltzes  or  polkas. 
Just  as  these  reflections  were  passing  through  my  mind,  the 
scene  changed,  somewhat  to  its  advantage,  and  the  circle 
broke  up  into  groups  which  vied  with  each  other  in  the  most 
remarkable  leg-movements.  These,  in  fact,  seem  to  be  the 
strong  point  of  all  these  dancers.    One  group  floated  along 


THE  "BUSH  SCHOOL" 


183 


on  tip-toe,  another  imitated  the  dignified  gait  of  some  kind 
of  wading-bird,  yet  another  swayed  merrily  in  and  out  between 
the  rest,  and  a  fourth  stalked  along  with  legs  held  perfectly 
stiff.  Long  after  my  last  film  was  finished  the  company  were 
still  disporting  themselves,  unable  to  leave  off,  but  at  last  this 
"  turn,"  too,  came  to  an  end  ;  the  band  produced  only  horrible 
discords  ;  I  was  tired  out  with  standing  ;  Knudsen  complained 
of  the  first  symptoms  of  fever,  and  the  function  was  over. 

The  performance  of  dances  like  the  one  just  described,  which 
is  connected  with  the  circumcision  rite,  have  naturally  increased 
my  interest  in  this  tribal  festival,  and  my  desire  to  see  and 
study  it  as  closely  as  possible. 

My  curiosity  was  increased  by  the  two  following  incidents. 
One  afternoon  I  was  strolling  through  the  bush  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Chingulungulu ;  we  had  already  obtained  some 
interesting  photographs  of  graves,  had  studied  the  exterior 
and  interior  of  some  outlying  homesteads,  and  were  about 
to  take  some  views  of  the  pori  showing  the  character  of  the 
vegetation.  After  straggling  in  Indian  file  through  the  high 
grass  and  the  underwood,  which  was  here  exceptionally 
dense,  we  came  to  a  little  circular  clearing,  perhaps  from 
fifteen  to  twenty  yards  in  diameter,  and  studded  with  a  few 
scattered  bushes.  The  unique  feature  of  the  place  was  two 
concentric  circles  of  stumps  having  another  stump  in  the 
centre.  These  stumps  were  about  a  foot  high,  cut  off  with  a 
perfectly  smooth  horizontal  surface,  and  excellently  well 
adapted  for  seats.  I  took  a  photograph  of  this  remarkable 
object  without  loss  of  time,  and,  on  my  return  to  camp,  made 
inquiries  of  Matola  and  others  as  to  its  meaning.  I  found 
that  the  stumps  were  seats  for  the  wari,  as  the  boys  under 
initiation  are  called  after  a  certain  point  in  the  ceremony, 
and  the  seat  in  the  middle  was  that  reserved  for  the  instructor 
who  has  charge  of  the  boys  during  the  months  which  they 
have  to  spend  in  a  hut  built  for  the  purpose  in  the  bush.  My 
informants  added  that  the  hut  had  stood  close  to  the  circle, 
but  was  no  longer  in  existence,  as  the  unyago  for  which  it 
had  been  built  had  taken  place  some  years  ago. 

Some  days  later,  Knudsen  and  I  were  sitting  under  our 
haraza  in  the  early  part  of  the  afternoon,  pressing  our  hands 
to  our  temples.    It  was  no  wonder  that  every  day  about  this 


184 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


time  we  both  suffered  from  excruciating  headaches,  for  the 
temperature  had  been  steadily  rising  during  the  last  few 
weeks,  and  on  this  particular  afternoon  the  thermometer 
stood  at  93-36°F.  We  had  given  vent  to  our  disgust  at  the 
Dark  Continent  in  the  strongest  of  language,  and  I  was  just 
about  to  soothe  our  ruffled  feelings  with  a  cigar  apiece,  when 
we  saw  two  black  figures  approaching.  These  proved  to  be 
Akundonde,  the  wise  old  Yao  chief,  and  his  councillor,  Akuma- 
panje.  We  had  sent  to  ask  Akundonde  to  find  us  some  men 
capable  of  giving  accurate  information,  and  now  he  came 
himself,  though  far  from  well.  He  was  suffering  from  the 
usual  neglected  ulcer  on  the  leg,  and  could  only  limp  along 
painfully  with  the  help  of  his  staff,  so  that  his  taking  a  four 
hours'  walk  to  oblige  us  shows  a  degree  of  good-will  deserving 
the  amplest  recognition. 

Akundonde  being  established  in  Knudsen's  long  chair,  while 
his  companion  took  a  seat  on  a  packing-case,  I  made  an  effort 
to  divert  the  conversation  from  the  trifles  which  at  first 
threatened  to  engross  it  to  the  subjects  which  chiefly  interest 
me,  and  succeeded,  more  by  luck  than  good  guidance.  As 
usually  happens,  we  were  soon  discussing  the  most  recondite 
matters,  such  as  the  attitude  of  the  natives  towards  eclipses, 
the  fall  of  meteorites,  and  the  moon.  Meteorites  are  con- 
sidered by  the  Yaos  as  of  evil  omen.  When  they  are  heard 
to  explode,  people  say,  "  Either  a  great  chief  will  die  this  year, 
or  a  great  multitude  of  the  people  will  perish."  An  eclipse 
of  the  moon  is  thought,  as  among  all  primitive  people,  to  be 
a  personal  encounter  between  two  foes.  The  enemy  of  the 
moon  is,  of  course,  the  sun  ;  they  seize  each  other  fiercely  and 
wrestle  together.  As  both  are  equally  matched,  the  battle  remains 
undecided,  which  forces  mankind  to  interfere.  The  Wayao 
run  in  haste  to  fetch  hoes  and  axes,  and  strike  them  against 
each  other,  looking  up  at  the  scene  of  strife  and  calHng  out  : — 

"  Mlekangane,  mlekangane,  mwesi  na  lyuwa,  mkamulene, 
Mlekangane,  mlekangane  samhano.''^ 

"  Go  asunder,  go  asunder,  sun  and  moon,  you  have  seized 
one  another.    Go  asunder,  go  asunder  now." 

The  same  custom  is  observed  in  echpses  of  the  sun,  as  is 
only  logical. 

The  full  moon  with  her  pale  light  exercises  the  same  magical 


''SID BRUM  REGINA,  AUDI!'' 


185 


influence  on  the  native  mind  as  on  the  feelings  of  every  other 
mortal,  except  that  our  black  brother  is  not  like  us  filled  with 
emotional  enthusiasm,  but,  quite  in  conformity  with  his 
views  on  other  matters,  makes  use  of  this  favourable  oppor- 
tunity for  heightening  the  virtue  of  his  medicines  and  charms. 
When  the  moon  is  at  the  full,  the  native  goes  to  the  nearest 
cross-roads,  or  to  a  place  where  two  paths  meet,  carrying 
with  him  a  sufficient  quantity  of  a  certain  gum  called  uhani. 
In  perfect  silence  he  then  kindles  a  fire  by  means  of  the 


FRESCO  ON  THE  WALL  OF  A  HUT  AT  AKUXDONDE's,   REPRESENTING  TWO 
EUROPEANS  WITH  THEIR  ESCORT  :     THE  WORK  OF  A  YAO  BOY 


primitive  appliance  of  the  drill  (to  be  described  later  on). 
The  dust  produced  by  boring  catches  fire,  but  the  glimmer  is 
at  first  so  faint  that  it  is  scarcely  perceptible  even  to  the  keen 
eyesight  of  the  savage.  Very  carefully  he  blows  on  the  tiny 
spark— it  grows,  catches  the  bunch  of  dry  grass  and  then  the 
sticks,  and  when  the  flame  leaps  up,  he  drops  his  powder 
into  it.  The  flame  now  burns  dimly,  a  thick  smoke  rises, 
and  the  man  takes  the  amulets  he  is  accustomed  to  wear  round 
his  neck,  arms  and  waist,  and  holding  them  in  the  smoke,  says  : 
"  You  moon,  a  little  while  ago  you  were  not  there,  and  the 
sky  was  dark.  Now  you  are  there  and  shine  down  brightly. 
All  beasts  and  plants  are  glad  and  have  new  strength,  so 
let  my  medicine  also  have  new  strength."  Then  he  prays 
thus  :  "  Let  the  medicine  protect  my  body  against  lions  and 
serpents,  against  witchcraft  and  everything  that  may  hurt 
me,  and  let  my  body  have  new  strength."  Once  more  he 
swings  his  charms  through  the  smoke,  as  it  becomes  thinner 
and  more  transparent  ;  the  fire  dies  down,  and  as  noiselessly 
as  he  came  the  man  creeps  back  to  his  hut. 


186  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Being  now  on  the  subject  of  magic,  the  three  ethnographic 
specialists,  Knudsen,  Akundonde  and  Akumapanje,  keep  to 
it,  and  speak  of  the  tying  of  knots.  Akundonde  relates  how 
a  man  in  this  country,  if  he  has  designs  on  any  particular 
girl,  takes  a  strip  of  bark,  makes  a  knot  in  it,  without  drawing 
it  tight,  and  says  to  it,  "  You  tree,  your  name  is  sangalasa 
(joy) — you  are  to  fetch  me  that  girl,  and  as  a  sign  that  it  shall 
come  to  pass,  I  shut  my  words  up  in  you."  He  then  holds 
the  open  knot  in  front  of  his  mouth,  puts  his  tongue  through 
it  and  draws  it  tight.  He  afterwards  wears  the  knotted  piece 
of  bark-string  tied  round  his  wrist.  This  proceeding,  though 
simple  enough,  is  connected  with  a  long  and  important  chapter 
in  racial  psychology.  The  tying  of  a  knot  in  fact,  in  many 
strata  of  mankind,  has  an  occult  meaning  ;  the  binding  power 
of  the  knot  is  supposed  to  be  transferred  to  certain  persons, 
and,  so  long  as  the  knot  itself  cannot  be  untied,  those  persons 
are  indissolubly  attached  to  him  or  her  who  has  tied  it 
according  to  certain  rules  and  with  the  proper  ceremonies. 

Interesting  as  these  matters  were,  and  glad  as  I  should  have 
been  to  know  more  of  them,  I  was  just  now  still  more  eager 
to  hear  about  the  much-discussed  unyago.  I  brought  up  the 
subject,  but  both  natives  cleverly  evaded  it.  After  a  while, 
I  noticed  the  old  chief's  eye  roaming  wistfully  about  our  study, 
saw  that  he  was  tired  and  thirsty,  and  remembered  that 
Daudi,  the  native  clergyman,  had  sent  us  a  large  pot  of  pomhe 
whose  quality  precluded  our  drinking  it  ourselves.  "  I  suppose 
it  will  be  quite  good  enough  for  these  two  old  sinners,"  I 
remarked  to  Knudsen,  who  must  have  been  revolving  similar 
cogitations  ;  for  he  at  once  seized  the  import  of  my  words, 
fetched  a  huge  tin  mug  from  his  tent,  filled  it  with  the  yellow, 
fermenting  liquor,  and  handed  it  to  Akundonde.  The  latter 
took  it,  but  did  not  drink,  handing  it  to  his  companion  instead. 
"  There's  a  polite  chief  for  you  !  "  I  thought  to  myself — but, 
seeing  how  very  cautiously  Akumapanje  touched  the  beer 
with  his  lips,  it  became  clear  to  me  that  I  was  witnessing  an 
ancient  traditional  custom,  arising  from  the  innate  suspicious- 
ness of  the  negro,  who  scents — not  indeed  poison,  but  certainly 
witchcraft — -everywhere,  and  dreads  it  accordingly.  The 
precaution  is  intended  to  divert  the  risk  from  the  superior  to 
the  subordinate. 


TWO  YAO  ELDERS 


187 


Akumapanje,  after  tasting,  handed  the  cup  back  to  Akun- 
donde,  who  thereupon  emptied  it  at  a  draught.  A  few 
seconds  later  it  was  again  at  the  lips  of  the  prime  minister, 
who  faithfully  copied  his  master.  Drink  and  counter-drink 
succeeded  each  other  at  the  same  rapid  rate,  and  we  Europeans 
looked  on  with  mixed  feehngs  of  envy  and  admiration.  This 
did  not  prevent  me  from  remembering  our  ethnographical 
purpose,  and  I  found  that  what  had  previously  seemed  im- 
possible was  now  child's  play.  The  two  old  men,  by  turns 
completing  each  other's  statements,  gave  a  fluent  description 
of  the  general  features  of  the  boys'  unyago  :  the  arrangement 
for  holding  the  festival  at  different  villages  every  year  (which 
was  not  new  to  me)  ;  the  introductory  ceremony,  held  in  an 
open  square  surrounded  by  the  huts  erected  for  the  candidates  ; 
and  the  operation  itself,  which  takes  place  in  a  special  hut  in 
the  depths  of  the  forest.  I  had  heard  something  of  all  this 
from  Knudsen,  who,  in  the  course  of  his  many  years'  residence 
among  the  Wayao,  has  acquired  a  wonderful  knowledge  of 
their  life  and  customs,  and  whom  I  have  been  pumping  at 
every  spare  minute  with  such  persistency  that  the  good  fellow 
has  no  doubt  often  wished  one  of  us  elsewhere. 

At  last,  however,  our  two  visitors,  becoming  more  loquacious 
as  the  pomhe  diminished,  reached  a  part  of  the  subject  of  which 
Knudsen  knows  very  little,  but  which  attracts  me  most  of 
all.  This  is  the  instruction  given  to  the  boys  during  the 
months  spent  in  the  bush  by  their  teachers  (anamungwi) . 
These  instructors,  of  whom  every  boy  has  one  from  the 
time  of  his  initiation  into  manhood,  are  indisputably  one  of 
the  most  sympathetic  features  in  the  life  of  the  people. 
They  watch  over  their  pupils  through  the  painful  weeks  of 
the  unyago,  teach  them  what  is  fitting  and  unfitting,  and  remain 
responsible  for  their  welfare  even  after  they  have  left  their 
boyhood  far  behind.  I  was  anxious,  above  all,  to  ascertain 
the  gist  of  the  moral  teaching  given  in  the  bush  hut,  and, 
though  I  only  partly  succeeded  in  doing  this,  it  is  a  great 
satisfaction  to  have  taken  down  verbatim  a  fragment  of  a 
speech  delivered  on  such  an  occasion. 

Some  extra  well-filled  cups  having  removed  the  last  scruples 
of  our  two  jovial  informants,  Akundonde,  with  a  little  more 
encouragement  from  Knudsen,  began  in  a  didactic  tone  : — 


188 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


"  Mwe  mari,  sambano  mumbele.  Atati  na  achikuluweno 
mnyogope.  Nyumba  mkasayinjila  tinyisimana  chimtum- 
banaga.  Wakongwe  mkasayogopa ;  mkagononawo,  mesi 
akayasinawo.  Imalaga  akamtikite  ;  imalaga  akamila  muchisie  ; 
masakam.  Munyitikisie  :  marhaba.  Mkuona  mwesi  sum- 
yogope,  ngakawa  kuulala.  Kusimana  timchiua  ;  Miasi  jili 
kogoya.    Chilwele  winyi."^ 

The  translation  is  as  follows  : — "  You,  my  pupil,  now  you 
are  initiated.  Your  father  and  your  mother,  fear  (respect) 
them.  See  that  you  do  not  enter  the  house  (unannounced), 
lest  you  should  find  them  embracing.  Do  not  be  afraid  of 
women,  but  sleep  with  them,  bathe  with  them,  when  you  have 
finished  let  her  rub  ( knead)  you  ;  when  you  have  finished  she 
should  salute  you  (saying)  '  Masakam,'  and  you  must  answer, 
'  Marhaba.'  You  must  be  afraid  ( =  take  care)  when  you 
see  the  (new)  moon,  you  might  get  hurt.  Beware  of  women 
during  their  courses,  this  is  dangerous,  (it  causes)  many 
diseases." 

My  notes  were  scarcely  as  complete  and  connected  as  the 
above  when  first  written  down.  The  native  is  incapable  even 
when  sober  of  taking  his  sentences  to  pieces,  as  it  were,  and 
dictating  them  bit  by  bit ;  but  taking  down  the  words  of  these 
two  jovial  old  sinners  was  a  difiicult  task,  which,  however, 
we  accomplished  successfully  up  to  the  point  when  the 
inevitable  catastrophe  set  in. 

The  two  had  invariably  paused  for  refreshment  at  the  end 
of  every  sentence  till  they  reached  the  point  above  indicated, 
when  they  suddenly  found  the  pombe  jar  empty.  They  had 
drunk  at  least  five  gallons  at  a  sitting,  but  with  the  strange 
logic  of  the  intoxicated,  they  considered  themselves  entitled  to 
a  further  supply,  and,  when  none  proved  to  be  forthcoming, 
they  indignantly  broke  off  their  lecture  and  left  in  a  huff. 
This  is  the  reward  of  being  hospitable  overmuch. 

The  address  here  reproduced,  which  I  have  translated  with 
the  help  of  Knudsen,  Daudi,  Matola  and  some  others,  is  said 
to  be  the  same,  both  as  to  matter  and  form,  at  all  unyago 
ceremonies.  No  doubt  this  is  correct,  for  I  know  nothing 
which  could  more  exactly  express  the  feelings  of  the  native 

^  One  would  expect  chilwele  chachijinji ,  but  possibly  there  is  some 
mistake  in  transcription. — [Tr.] 


REVERENCE  FOR  PARENTS 


189 


than  just  these  precepts.  They  are  a  strange  mixture  of  hygienic 
rules  and  moral  instruction,  and  at  the  same  time  contain 
a  good  deal  of  primitive  tradition  which  still  forms  part  of 
daily  life.  I  mean  by  this  the  fact  that  the  youth,  once 
recognised  as  a  member  of  the  adult  community,  is  forbidden 
to  enter  his  mother's  house  unannounced.  Here,  in  East 
Africa,  we  are  still  in  the  matriarchal  stage,  where  the  husband 
is  nothing,  so  to  speak,  but  a  connection  by  marriage.  He 
is  his  children's  father,  but  is  not  related  to  them,  in  fact 
he  belongs  to  a  different  clan.  This  clan,  as  so  often  happens 
among  primitive  peoples,  is  exogamous — that  is  to  say  that 
there  is  no  impediment  to  a  young  man  marrying  a  girl  of  any 
clan  but  his  own.  This  prohibition  goes  so  far  that  the  young 
Yao  has,  as  far  as  possible,  to  avoid  his  nearest  female  relations 
who,  of  course,  are  his  mother  and  sisters,  and  hence  the 
injunction  at  least  to  give  warning  of  his  approach  when 
entering  his  mother's  house. 

The  stress  here  as  elsewhere  laid  on  the  reverence  to  be 
shown  to  father  and  mother  must  strike  all  right-thinking 
Europeans  as  a  very  pleasing  trait.  Respect  for  parents 
and  for  grown-up  people  in  general  is,  as  I  have  been  told 
over  and  over  again,  the  principal  and  fundamental  feature 
in  native  education,  and  Knudsen  testifies  that  the  young 
people  in  general  observe  it  in  a  marked  degree  in  their  inter- 
course with  their  elders.  We  Europeans  might  well  learn 
from  the  natives  in  this  respect,  thinks  Nils,  who  is  no  doubt, 
well  quahfied  to  form  an  opinion. 

But,  in  spite  of  all  pleasant  impressions  as  to  native  educa- 
tional inaxims,  I  have  lost  the  end  of  the  unyago  address — 
a  misfortune  for  which  the  good  Daudi's  big  pomhe-]d.r  is  to 
blame.  If  the  mountain  will  not  come  to  Muhammad,  Muham- 
mad will  have  to  go  to  the  mountain.  In  other  words,  Akun- 
donde  having  declared  that  he  must  go  home  to  put  fresh  dawa 
on  his  leg  and  cannot  possibly  come  again,  we  shall  have  to 
look  up  the  old  gentleman  at  his  own  residence. 


HERD   OF  ELEPHANTS.      FROM   A  DRAWING   BY  BARNABAS,    AN  EDUCATED 
MWERA  AT  LINDI 


CHAPTER  X 

FURTHER  RESULTS 

Chixguluxgulu,  August  31,  1906. 

I  AM  still  at  Chingulungiilu,  cursing  the  infernal  heat,  horrible 
dust  and  dirty  natives  with  more  fervour  than  ever,  but 
unable  to  get  away  from  them.  The  reason  for  this  is  the  fact 
that  while  at  first  my  stay  here  seemed  utterly  barren  of 
scientific  results,  this  state  of  things  gradually  reversed  itself, 
so  that  the  difficulty  now  lay  in  dealing  with  the  mass  of 
new  impressions  and  observations.  It  is  impossible  to  relate  in 
full  detail  the  exact  way  in  which  I  obtained  an  insight  into 
native  customs  and  ideas — this  would  fill  several  volumes, 
and  my  time  is  limited.  I  shall  therefore  content  myself  with 
a  few  personal  touches  and  a  small  selection  from  the  various 
departments  of  the  material  and  mental  life  of  the  tribes 
inhabiting  this  vast  plain. 

The  most  important  incident  affecting  my  expedition  was 
the  engagement  of  Nils  Knudsen  as  a  permanent  member 
of  its  staff,  subject,  of  course,  to  the  consent  of  the  Agricultural 
Committee.  I  fancy  the  arrangement  is  satisfactory  to  both 
parties.  As  I  have  already  remarked,  Knudsen  is  in  the  service 
of  the  Lindi  Municipality,  as  master  of  the  Industrial  School. 
At  the  request  of  the  District  Commissioner,  he  had  been 
granted  leave  of  absence  to  make  a  tour  through  the  plain 
west  of  the  Makonde  Plateau  and  exercise  a  sort  of  supervision 
over  the  village  headmen.    For  reasons  of  which  I  am  not 

190 


A  DISASTER  TO  :\IY  CAMERA 


191 


called  on  to  judge,  the  plan  of  appointing  such  European 
inspectors  has  been  given  up  again,  and,  as  the  Lindi  muni- 
cipality naturally  saw  no  occasion  to  let  their  industrial  teacher 
travel  about  the  country  for  his  own  amusement,  he  was 
recalled.  I  must  honestlv  confess  that  I  had  long  found 
Knudsen  quite  indispensable,  and  therefore  took  the  oppor- 
tunity of  applying  to  the  District  Commissioner  for  permission 
to  engage  him,  when  the  latter,  a  few  days  ago,  visited  us  on 
one  of  his  ofhcial  tours.  He  has  seemed  ever  since  to  enjoy 
an  increased  sense  of  his  own  importance  and,  in  fact,  the 
task  of  initiating  a  German  scholar  into  the  deepest  secrets 
of  ahen  hfe  is  no  doubt  a  far  pleasanter  one  than  that  of 
teaching  lazy  native  boys  to  plane,  saw,  forge  and  solder. 

The  second  incident  is  a  severe  attack  of  fever,  with  which 
I  have  been  laid  up  during  the  last  few  days.  I  was  just  about 
to  photograph  the  old  Sudanese  sergeant  who  had  come  up 
with  Ewerbeck,  and  who  was  chiefly  remarkable  for  a  cough 
which  kept  everyone  awake  at  night.  When  I  saw  him  going 
to  muster  his  men  for  roll-call  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon, 
I  went  to  take  down  my  9  x  12  cm.  camera  which  hung  from 
a  nail  on  one  of  the  pillars  of  the  haraza  ;  but  let  it  fall  in  lifting 
it  down,  and  found,  on  picking  it  up,  that  the  sliding  front  had 
got  bent  and  the  instantaneous  shutter  injured  by  the  fall. 
The  first  accident  was  remedied  by  energetic  pressure,  for  the 
second  nothing  could  be  done.  I  do  not  to  this  day  understand 
why  the  loss  of  this  instrument  should  have  thrown  me  into 
such  a  state  of  excitement  ;  but  there  are  moments  in  life 
when  we  do,  or  omit  to  do,  things  for  which  we  afterwards 
vainly  try  to  account.  I  suppose  I  never  even  remembered  at 
the  time  that  I  still  possessed  a  13  x  18  cm.  apparatus  of 
excellent  quality.  That  I  did  not  recall  the  fact  later  on,  is 
easier  to  understand,  as  by  sunset  I  found  that  my  tempera- 
ture was  rapidly  rising.  I  tried  a  remedy  previously  found 
effectual  for  bringing  on  perspiration — huge  quantities  of  tea 
with  citric  acid  in  it,  but  in  vain.  After  a  terrible  night  with 
an  average  temperature  of  over  104°,  the  fever  had  so  far 
abated  that  I  could  exert  myself  to  make  the  working  drawings 
for  additional  slides  to  my  13  x  18  cm.  camera,  which  I  wished 
to  send  to  the  Indian  fundi  at  Lindi.  Up  to  this  moment  I 
had  thought  my  photographic  equipment  perfect,  but  the 


192  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


possibility  of  such  an  accident  as  befell  my  smaller  camera  and 
of  remedying  it  by  the  use  of  simple  wooden  frames  had  not 
occurred  either  to  me  or  the  firm  who  supplied  me.  By 
exerting  all  my  energies,  I  was  just  able  to  finish  the  drawings 
and  send  them  off  by  a  runner  to  Lindi,  when  my  temperature 
again  rose  above  100°  and  I  was  forced  to  go  back  to  bed, 
The  attack  then  ran  its  course  and  came  to  an  end,  as  fever 
always  does.  To-day  I  should  almost  feel  inclined  to  smoke, 
if  we  had  any  tobacco  worthy  of  the  name.  However,  I  have 
now  had  quite  enough  of  Chingulungulu,  and  as  the  Rovuma 
with  its  green  banks  and  clear,  cool  water,  its  sand-banks  and 
islands  is  only  a  day's  march  distant,  we  intend  to  go  thither 
shortly  for  a  rest  and  change  after  all  the  discomforts,  great 
and  small,  of  our  stay  here. 

Before  leaving,  I  feel  that  I  ought  to  set  down  at  least  a 
few  of  the  observations  made  at  this  place. 

Among  many  other  diseases,  such  as  malarial,  black-water 
and  remittent  fever,  sleeping-sickness,  guinea-worm,  beriberi, 
and  whatever  other  ills,  great  or  small,  mankind  may  suffer 
from  in  these  otherwise  favoured  regions,  leprosy  is  unfortu- 
nately endemic  in  our  colony  on  the  Indian  Ocean.  On  the  coast 
of  the  southern  district,  the  Government  is  trying  to  prevent 
the  further  spread  of  this  terrible  disease,  by  establishing  an 
isolation  hospital  on  an  island  in  the  Lukuledi  Estuary,  where 
the  patients,  at  present  about  forty  in  number,  are  treated 
by  the  m.edical  staff  at  Lindi.  Here  in  the  interior,  lepers  are 
for  the  present  entirely  dependent  on  the  care  of  their  fellow- 
tribesmen.  Among  the  Yaos  this  care  is  a  mixture  of  human 
sympathy  and  the  crudest  barbarity.  The  patient  is  taken 
to  a  hut  built  specially  for  him  in  a  remote  part  of  the  bush, 
where  his  friends  or  relations  bring  him  food,  till  the  end  seems 
to  be  approaching.  If  the  wise  men  of  the  tribe  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  this  diagnosis  is  correct,  a  last  and  very 
abundant  meal  is  carried  out  to  the  hut,  which  is  then  fastened 
up  from  the  outside,  so  strongly  that,  even  had  the  patient 
the  power  and  the  will  to  make  an  effort,  he  could  not  free 
himself.  He  is  thus,  should  he  still  have  any  vitality  left 
by  the  time  the  last  of  the  food  and  drink  is  consumed, 
condemned  to  perish  of  starvation. 

Another  picture  connected  with  death  presents  itself.  We 


13— (2I3I) 


194 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


have  already  seen  the  mysterious,  legend-haunted  site  of 
Hatia's  grave  on  Unguruwe  mountain  ;  those  of  other  mortals 
are  unpretending  enough  and  quite  prosaic  in  character. 
In  the  country  round  Chingulungulu  I  have  found  graves,  both 
old  and  recent,  at  various  places  in  the  bush,  none  of  them 
outwardly  distinguishable  from  graves  in  our  own  country, 
except  that  the  mounds  over  those  of  children  are  round  or 
oval,  instead  of  long  like  those  of  adults.    So  far  I  have  seen 


GRAVE   Ul-    Tin:   YAO  CHIEF  MALUCHIRO,   AT  MWITI 

nothing  of  the  custom  reported  to  me  by  several  informants, 
of  building  a  hut  over  the  grave,  and  decorating  it  with  cahco. 
Only  one  grave  at  Masasi  had  such  a  hut,  but  I  was  told 
that  it  was  an  Arab  grave,  and  there  was  no  cloth.  ^  The 
grave  of  Nakaam's  predecessor,  Maluchiro,  at  Meviti,  has 
unfortunately  quite  lost  the  traditional  character.  Here 
the  traveller  finds  a  large  oval  hut,  and,  stooping  under  the 
wide,  overhanging  eaves  to  enter,  he  sees,  in  the  solemn 
twilight  within,  massive  clay  pillars  at  the  head  and  foot  of 

^  The  old  custom  of  the  Yaos  (at  any  rate  in  the  case  of  a  chief)  is 
to  bury  the  dead  man  inside  his  hut  (or  where  he  has  several,  in  that  of 
his  principal  wife),  which  is  then  closed,  and  allowed  to  decay.  Lengths 
of  calico  (the  quantity  being  proportioned  to  the  wealth  of  the  deceased) 
are  draped  over  the  roof  and  left  there.  Perhaps  the  building  of  a 
house  over  the  grave,  which  appears  to  be  done  sometimes  near  Lake 
Nyasa,  is  a  later  modification  of  this  custom. — [Tk.] 


PROMETHEUS  PYROPHORUS  195 


the  grave,  and  a  somewhat  lower  wall  on  either  side  of  it. 
Such  monuments  are  shown  with  pride  by  the  natives  to  the 
passing  European,  but  they  are  a  proof  how  far  Islamitic 
culture  has  penetrated  the  old  African  life. 

European  influence  also  has  a  share  in  the  disappearance 
of  old  customs,  though,  in  one  point,  at  least,  it  is  less  far- 
reaching  than  I  had  supposed.  I  imagined  that  a  box  of 
matches  would  be  found  in  ever}^  native  hut,  but  I  have  seen 
nothing  of  the  sort,  and,  moreover,  have  observed  no  other 
way  of  procuring  fire.  Yet  no  hut  is  ever  without  it.  Here 
we  have  the  startling  solution  of  a  question  which  has  long 
occupied  the  attention  of  ethnographers.  Not  so  many 
decades  ago,  inquirers  of  the  standing  of  Tylor  and  Lubbock 
seriously  believed  in  the  existence  of  fireless  tribes — even  our 
brown  fellow-subjects  in  the  ]\Iarianne  Islands  being  classed 
with  such  unfortunates.  The  contrary  of  this  hypothesis  has 
now  been  irrefutably  demonstrated,  and  it  is  known  that  there 
is  no  tribe  in  the  world  ignorant  of  the  use  of  fire,  or  even  of 
the  mode  of  producing  it  artificially.  The  problem  has  there- 
fore assumed  another  aspect.  Did  men  first  use  fire,  and  then 
learn  to  produce  it  ?  that  is  to  say,  did  they  begin  by  making 
use  of  its  natural  sources,  such  as  volcanoes  and  lava  currents, 
burning  naphtha-beds,  trees  kindled  by  lightning,  or  heaps 
of  vegetable  matter  ignited  by  spontaneous  combustion  ?— or 
did  they  first  learn  to  bring  out  the  divine  spark  by  boring, 
friction,  or  percussion,  and  then  proceed  to  harness  the  kindly 
element  to  household  tasks  ?  Both  sequences  of  events  are 
a  /)non  possible,  though,  of  course,  the  first  is  much  the  more 
probable  of  the  two.  To-day  we  may  say  that  it  is  the 
only  one  recognised.  This  knowledge  we  owe  entirely  to 
ethnography. 

At  a  time  when  hundreds  of  students  are  continually  busy 
investiga.ting  and  describing  the  remotest  and  most  forlorn 
of  primitive  tribes  at  present  accessible — when  the  existing 
ethnographic  museums  are  filled  to  overflowing  with  new 
collections,  and  new  museums  are  opened  every  year,  it  is 
strange  to  think  of  the  earlier  and  less  favoured  period  which 
had  to  be  content  with  mere  arm-chair  theories.  Two  branches 
of  a  tree  rub  together  in  a  storm.  As  the  wind  grows  stronger, 
the  friction  becomes  more  rapid,  till  the  surfaces  are  heated ; 


196 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


at  last  a  tiny  spark  appears,  it  becomes  a  larger  spark,  and  then 
a  devouring  flame  which  consumes  the  whole  tree.  Primitive 

man,  standing  un- 
der the  tree,  has 
been  watching  the 
process  with 
amazement. 
"  Oh  !  "  says  he, 
is  that  how  it's 
done  ?  "  and  there- 
upon takes  a 
couple  of  sticks 
and  does  likewise. 

In  this  descrip- 
tion we  have  a 
typical  specimen  of 
the  old-fashioned 
theory  devoid  of 
any  concrete  basis 
of  fact.  It  is  the 
hypothesis  pro- 
pounded by  Kuhn, 
the  philologist, 
who,  fift}^  years 
ago,  was  at  least 
as  famous  for  his 
"  Origin  of  Fire  "  i 
as  for  his  work 
in  comparative  lin- 
guistics. We  of  a 
generation  which 
knows  no  rever- 
ence have  grown 
accustomed  to 
laugh  at  the  venerable  scholar  ;  but  such  is  the  way  of  the  world. 

It  is  always  well  to  remember,  in  the  case  of  a  widely- 
distributed  art,  like  the  production  of  fire,  that  it  may  have 
originated  in  more  ways  than  one.     When  we  see  to-day  that 

1  Die  Herahkunft  des  Feuers  und  des  Guttertrankes.  Ein  Beitrag  zur 
vergleichenden  MytJiologie  der  Indo-Germanen.    Berlin,  1859. 


KINDLING  FIRE   BY  FRICTION 


FIRE-PRODUCING  APPLIANCES  197 


by  far  the  greater  number  of  primitive  tribes  make  use  of  a 
boring  implement,  while  a  smaller  section  uses  friction,  and 
a  third  an  instrument  like  a  saw,  and  the  rest  have  already 
advanced  to  the  principles  of  the  flint  and  steel,  the  concave 
mirror  and  the  pneumatic  fire-producer — it  follows  of  itself 
that  such  must  be  the  case.  At  the  same  time  this  variety 
of  method  shows  us  that  the  production  of  fire  is  everywhere  a 
secondary  matter,  an  accidental  discovery,  made  while  pursuing 
some  entirely  different  end.  This  is  even  found  to  be  the 
case  with  the  Malay  fire-pump  of  South- Eastern  Asia.  This 
is  a  tube,  closed  below,  into  which  a  tightly-fitting  piston,  whose 
hollow  lower  end  encloses  a  small  piece  of  tinder,  is  forcibly 
driven,  when  the  compression  of  the  air  heats  it  sufficiently  to 
ignite  the  tinder.  The  blow-pipe,  which  has  the  same  distribu- 
tion, gives  us  a  hint  as  to  the  invention  of  this  appliance.  In 
drilling  the  hole  to  make  this  weapon,  it  would  soon  be  observed 
that  the  air  within  the  tube  readily  becomes  hot  enough  to 
ignite  the  dust  or  shavings  ;  and  it  would  not  be  difiicult 
to  do  the  same  thing  again  intentionally.  In  the  very  oldest 
culture  of  mankind,  we  can  find  indications  of  how  aU  other 
forms  of  fire-producing  implements  came  to  be  invented.  The 
earliest  primitive  man  had  to  scrape,  bore,  rub  and  saw,  in  order 
to  shape  his  elementary  weapons  and  implements  in  accordance 
with  the  purpose  for  which  they  were  to  be  used.  x\ll  these  pro- 
cesses produced  dust,  which  under  favourable  circumstances 
became  ignited  through  the  heat  engendered  by  rapid  motion. 

This  is  the  view  taken  by  present-dav  ethnographers  of 
the  way  in  which  the  use  of  fire  originated.  No  doubt  the 
invention  was  made  independently  in  many  places  and  at 
various  times,  but  only,  in  all  probability,  after  men  were 
already  familiar  with  fire  as  a  natural  phenomenon.  This 
necessarily  follows  from  the  fact,  observed  by  careful  travellers 
among  all  primitive  people,  that  fire  is  looked  after  and  cher- 
ished as  a  kind  of  domestic  animal,  all  possible  precautions 
being  taken  to  prevent  its  going  out.  It  is  even  probable  that 
the  invention  of  the  house  was  suggested  by  the  necessity  of 
protecting  the  fire  from  rain  and  snow.  In  the  tribes  which 
have  come  under  my  own  observation,  nothing  is  so  touching 
as  their  care  for  the  "  eternal  fire."  If  I  had  not  made  a  point 
of  getting  young  and  old  people  to  show  me,  in  every  place 


198 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


visited,  the  mode  of  making  fire  by  boring,  I  might  live  ten 
years  in  the  country  without  seeing  the  slightest  indication  of 
their  being  acquainted  with  such  a  thing.  They  carry  the 
smouldering  brand  with  them  for  enormous  distances,  and  only 
when,  in  spite  of  all  care,  it  has  gone  out,  and  no  other  fire  can 
be  borrowed,  the  man  takes  up  his  two  sticks  and  kindles  a  new 
fire  by  short  but  severe  exertion.  It  is  not  every  man  who  can 
do  this.  I  have  seen  skilled  practitioners  who  had  a  bright 
flame  leaping  up  within  half-a-minute  from  the  first  twirl  of 
the  stick,  while  others  toiled  away  for  a  long  time  and  effected 
nothing.  One  essential  point  is  the  notch  at  one  side  of  the 
bore-hole,  so  that  the  first  spark  can  reach  the  little  cone  of 
dust  as  quickly  as  possible.  It  is  also  necessary  to  twirl  the 
stick  quietly  and  with  a  uniform,  not  a  hurried  motion,  and  to 
blow  gently  and  steadily.  In  my  Leipzig  experiments  in 
fire-boring  I  tried  all  possible  methods,  and  my  students  and 
I  wearied  ourselves  out  in  vain,  for  want  of  knowing  and 
attending  to  these  three  points. 

I  see,  somewhat  to  my  surprise,  that  the  distinction  between 
the  skilled  and  unskiUed  use  of  weapons  is  also  fully  recognised. 
What  sort  of  shooting  the  men  here  can  do  with  their  muzzle- 
loaders  I  am  unable  to  judge,  as  the  importation  of  powder 
has  been  prohibited  since  the  rising,  ^  and  therefore  these 
weapons  are  not  now  in  use.  This  is  one  reason  why  the  old- 
fashioned  arms  are  more  in  evidence  at  present  ;  and,  besides, 
everyone  knows  that  the  stranger  from  Ulaya  is  interested 
in  such  things.  As  far  as  hunting  is  concerned,  however, 
(and  this  is  the  principal  purpose  for  which  weapons  are  re- 
quired,) the  use  of  fire-arms  has  occasioned  little  or  no  change 
in  tactics.  The  difiiculty  of  getting  within  shot  of  the  game 
with  these  antediluvian  flint-lock  guns  is  almost  as  great  as 
with  bows  and  arrows,  and  the  innumerable  precautions  taken 
before  and  during  hunting  expeditions  are  intended  to  over- 
come these  difficulties.  The  local  hunters,  among  whom 
Nils  Knudsen  easily  takes  the  first  place,  have,  in  the  course 
of  the  month  spent  at  Chingulungulu,  described  to  me  with 
the  fullest  details,  all  native  methods  of  hunting,  and  every- 
thing connected  therewith.    When   everything   else  failed, 

^  To  prevent  complications,  this  prohibition  apphes  to  friendly 
tribes  as  well  as  to  the  late  rebels. 


HUNTING  CHARMS 


199 


when  I  was  weary  with  the  continuous  work  of  photographing, 
making  phonographic  and  cinematographic  records,  sketch- 
ing, cross-examining  and  taking  notes,  and  when  it  became 
evident  that  m}^  unlucky  informants  were  only  being  kept 
awake  by  consideration  for  their  distinguished  visitor,  I  had 
only  to  touch  on  the 
subject  of  hunting, 
and  everyone  was  quite 
fresh  again,  myself  in- 
cluded ;  for,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  no  more  inter- 
esting ethnographical 
picture  can  be  conceived 
than  that  suggested  by 
these  conditions. 

In  one  of  those  daily 
conferences  in  which 
the  men  of  the  village 
pass  much  of  their  time 
during  the  greater  part 
of  the  year,  the  assem- 
bly has  to-day  decided 
on  a  great  hunt,  to  be 
held  shortly.  With  an 
eagerness  not  usually 
seen  in  these  muscular 
but  fairly  plump  figures, 
everyone  immediately 
hurried  to  his  hut  to 
inspect  his  weapons.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  the 
native  always  keeps  his  gun  in  first-rate  condition,  but 
this  is  not  the  point  just  now.  What  has  to  be  done  is  to 
cast  a  spell  on  the  quarry  and  to  secure  the  assistance  of  higher 
powers  for  the  matter  in  hand.  For  this  purpose,  medicine, 
much  and  strong  medicine,  is  needed.  The  most  powerful 
charms  are  parts  of  the  bodies  of  still-born  children  ;  for, 
as  they  have  been  unable  to  do  any  harm  in  the  world,  every 
part  of  them  is,  in  the  native  view,  calculated  to  have  a  bene- 
ficent influence.  Similar  ideas  seem  to  underlie  the  efforts 
made  to  obtain  the  human  placenta  for  such  purposes.  On 


MV   COMPANION,    NILS  KNUDSEN 


200 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


the  other  hand,  bones  of  men  long  dead,  especially  of  such  as 
were  famous  hunters  in  their  lifetime,  are  eagerly  sought  in 
the  belief  that  the  qualities  of  the  deceased  will  be  transferred 
to  the  user.  All  these  things,  together  with  the  roots  of  certain 
plants,  are  made  up  into  amulets  with  which  the  hunter 
adorns  both  himself  and  his  gun.  Not  until  he  has  assured 
himself  that  he  is  forearmed  against  any  possible  casualty  can 
he  start  with  an  easy  mind. 

There  is,  of  course,  no  danger  involved  in  hunting  the 
numerous  antelopes  of  the  country.  The  hunters  assemble  early 
in  the  morning  at  the  rendezvous  agreed  on,  but  before  they 
start  they  are  all  rubbed  down  with  decoctions  of  certain 
roots.  This  is  necessary  to  overpower  by  means  of  a  smell 
less  alarming  to  the  game,  the  strong  bodily  effluvium  already 
alluded  to,  together  with  the  peculiar  odour  of  wood  smoke, 
etc.,  from  the  huts,  which  hangs  about  them.  Even  the 
ordinary  antelopes  require  great  care  in  this  respect,  the  eland 
much  more,  and  the  elephant,  of  course,  most  of  all.  Not  till 
this  is  done  does  the  hunt  begin.  Having  once  found  the 
track,  the  men  follow  it  up  without  stopping,  ascending 
ant-heaps,  climbing  trees,  and  keeping  a  look-out  from  hills. 
At  last,  having  got  within  thirty  or  forty  yards  of  the  quarry, 
whether  a  solitary  animal  or  a  herd,  they  fire  a  volley  of  shot 
and  slugs  which  either  brings  it  down  at  once,  or  wounds  it  so 
severely  that,  on  following  up  the  blood-spoor,  they  find  it 
dead  in  the  bush.  All  the  party  now  crowd  round  to  dip  their 
amulets  in  its  blood,  and  so  make  them  more  effectual  for  the 
future.  The  successful  marksman  gets  the  tip  of  the  tail  as  a 
much  coveted  ornament.  He  and  his  companions  now  take  a 
small  piece  of  the  animal's  nose  as  medicine,  to  strengthen  and 
sharpen  their  scent,  of  the  apex  of  the  heart,  to  give  them 
endurance  and  perseverance  in  stalking,  of  the  eyes,  to  make 
their  sight  keener,  and  of  the  brain  to  increase  their  intelligence. 
These  parts  are  eaten,  and  also  a  small  piece  of  flesh  from  the 
place  struck  by  the  bullet — this  to  ensure  a  similar  result  next 
time — and  a  piece  of  the  liver.  I  have  not  been  able  to  ascer- 
tain the  reason  for  this  last  ;  but  this  organ  being  by  many 
peoples  regarded  as  the  seat  of  life,  perhaps  this  association 
of  ideas  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  practice.  All  particles  of  flesh 
or  hide  wiiich  adhere  to  the  hands  after  partaking  of  this 


"ELEPHANT  MEDICINE" 


201 


remarkable  hunting-breakfast  must  by  an  invariable  rule  be 
smeared  on  the  stock  of  the  gun.  Then  they  all  hasten  away. 
The  animal  is  dead,  it  is  true,  but  its  spirit  has  not  been  killed, 
and  will  want  to  revenge  itself.  They  return  with  various 
herbs  and  roots,  the  juice  of  which  they  make  haste  to  rub 
over  their  bodies,  and  so  protect  themselves. 

But  what  are  the  observances  connected  with  a  mere  ante- 
lope hunt  compared  with  the  mass  of  superstitious  practices 
which  precede,  accompany  and  follow  the  chase  of  the  elephant  ? 
I  ca.nnot  here  describe  in  detail  the  preparation  of  the  medicines 
and  charms  and  their  more  than  fantastic  ingredients.  An 
elephant-hunt  not  only  com.pels  the  master  of  the  house  him- 
self to  adopt  a  particular  regimen  both  by  day  and  night, 
but  also  exercises  a  similar  constraint  on  his  wife  for  at  least  a 
week  beforehand.  As  a  rule,  the  native  dislikes  nothing  more 
than  any  interruption  of  his  night's  rest,  but  at  this  time  man 
and  wife  are  often  kept  on  their  feet  half  the  night  in  order 
to  prepare  the  necessary  charms.  Portions  of  the  human 
placenta,  brain,  etc.,  are  again  among  the  principal  ingredients, 
with  the  addition  of  human  semen,  and  in  particular,  decoctions 
of  the  bark  of  various  trees  with  which  the  hunter  has  to 
anoint  himself  and  his  gun.  I  must  refer  the  reader  to  the 
official  report  of  my  expedition,  where  these  and  many  other 
details  may  be  found. 

We  cannot  undertake  to  follow  the  hunters  on  their  expedi- 
tion, and  have  to  be  content  with  pointing  out  that  there  is 
one  infallible  means  of  stopping  an  elephant  when  all  efforts 
to  come  up  with  him  have  failed.  It  is  very  simple — you  take 
some  earth  from  the  four  footprints  of  the  animal  pursued, 
mix  it  with  a  certain  medicine  made  of  roots,  and  tie  the 
mixture  fast  somewhere.  After  this  the  elephant  will  be 
unable  to  move,  let  him  try  never  so  hard. 

When  at  last  the  hunt  has  been  successful  and  the  elephant 
is  killed,  the  first  thing  done  is  to  cut  off  the  tip  of  his  trunk, 
which  is  immediately  buried.  It  is  beheved  that  this  is  the 
most  dangerous  part  of  an  elephant  and  lives  on  long  after  the 
animal  has  been  killed.  It  is  buried  so  that  it  may  not  see 
what  is  done  next.  The  hunters  dance  round  the  fallen 
colossus,  firing  off  their  guns  over  and  over  again  in  token 
of  rejoicing  ;  then  they  seek  for  medicinal  roots,  with  which 


202  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


FISH-DRYING   OX  THE  ROVUMA 


they  rub  their  bodies  as  a  protection  against  the  elephant's 
revengeful  spirit.  This  done,  they  are  at  leisure  to  cut  out 
the  tusks,  cut  up  the  carcase,  consume  enormous  quantities 
of  the  fresh  meat,  and  dry  the  rest  for  carrying  away.  This 
is  done  in  the  same  manner  in  which  fish  are  dried  on  the 
Rovuma,  that  is,  over  a  fire,  on  a  stage  about  two  feet  high. 
Others  prefer  to  cut  it  into  strips  and  let  it  dry  in  the  sun. 
There  is  probably  not  much  left  to  be  treated  in  this  way  ; 
the  native,  like  a  vulture,  scents  any  bit  of  meat  which  might 
break  the  monotony  of  his  porridge  diet,  even  though  it 
should  be  miles  away;  and  so,  in  an  incredibly  short  time, 
hundreds  of  guests  see  that  none  of  the  joint  is  wasted. 


CHAPTER  XI 


TO  THE  ROVUMA 

Newala,  beginning  of  September,  1906. 

For  the  last  few  days  I  have  been  Kving  in  a  different  world, 
and  nearer  heaven,  for  I  am  here  at  a  height  of  more  than 
3,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the  Indian  Ocean,  and  look  down 
on  the  vast  greyish-green  plain  in  the  west  from  an  altitude  of 
over  1,600  feet.  This  view  over  the  plain  is  wonderful,  extend- 
ing, on  the  south-west  across  the  broad  channel  of  the  Rovuma, 
which  just  now,  it  is  true,  holds  very  little  water,  and  on  the 
north-west  to  the  distant  Masasi  range  ;  while  it  also  embraces 
the  numerous  insular  peaks  appearing  at  various  distances  in 
the  south,  west,  and  north-west.  I  can  only  enjoy  this  view, 
however,  by  walking  back  westward  for  about  half-a-mile  from 
my  present  position,  for  Newala  is  not  on  the  precipitous  edge 
of  the  plateau,  but  lies  about  a  thousand  yards  away  from  it. 
And  the  climate  here  !  What  a  contrast  to  the  Inferno  of 
Chinguiungulu  and  the  Purgatory  of  Akundonde's  !  Here  it  is 
cool  as  on  the  crest  of  the  Thiiringer  Wald,  and  we  Europeans 
had  to  get  out  our  warmest  clothes  immediately  on  arriving. 
Double  blankets  at  night  and  a  thick  waistcoat  in  the  morning 
and  evening  are  not  enough,  and  we  have  both  had  to  take  to 
overcoats. 

But. again  I  am  anticipating  !  Between  our  departure  from 
Chinguiungulu  and  our  arrival  at  Newala  only  eleven  days 
intervened.  But  how  many,  or  to  be  more  accurate,  what  varied 
experiences  were  crowded  into  this  interval !  Never  before 
had  my  carriers  been  so  noisy  with  sheer  high  spirits  as  on  the 
morning  which  put  an  end  to  their  long  inactivity  at  Matola's. 
Wanyamwezi  porters  cannot  endure  sitting  still,  they  want 
to  be  always  on  the  move,  always  seeing  something  new; 
and  in  the  end,  if  kept  too  long  inactive  in  one  place  away  from 
home,  they  realise  the  proverb  about  the  sailor  with  a  wife  at 
every  port.  I  had  the  greatest  trouble  to  steer  my  twenty- 
four  men  (I  had  already,  with  no  regret  whatever,  discharged 
tlie  Lindi  Rugaruga  at  Masasi),  through  the  dangers  of  this 

203 


204  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Capua  ;  they  became  violent,  committed  assaults  on  women 
and  girls,  and  gave  other  cause  for  complaint  as  well.    I  did  all 
I  could  to  keep  them  out  of  mischief,  as,  for  instance,  employing 
them  to  make  long  tables  for  the  haraza  out  of  halved  bamboos  ; 
but  all  to  no  purpose.    On  the  morning  of  our  departure,  how- 
ever, they  skipped  along  like  young  calves,  in  spite  of  their 
loads  of  sixty  or  seventy  pounds,  as  we  marched  along  to  the 
Rovuma.    How  cheerily  we  all  marched  !    We  had  soon  left 
the  shadeless  bush  of  Chingulungulu  far  behind.    A  sharp  turn 
of  the  road  from  west  to  south,  and  a  short  steep  declivity 
brought  us  to  the  Nasomba,  which  had  a  small  thread  of  water 
at  the  bottom  of  its  deep  gorge.    On  we  went,  over  extensive 
stubble-fields  of  maize  and  millet,  between  beds  of  beans  and 
splendid  plantations  of  tobacco.    High  ant-heaps  showed  the 
fertility  of  the  soil  ;  little  watch-huts  fixed  on  high  poles  told 
how  the  crops  were  endangered  by  wild  pigs,  monkeys,  and 
other  foes  belonging  to  the  animal  world.    Knudsen  was  able 
to  indulge  his  love  of  the  chase  on  this  trip,  and  from  time 
to  time,  one  of  his  venerable  shooting-irons  lifted  up  its  voice 
over  hiU  and  valley.    Meanwhile  I  had  passed  the  Lichehe 
Lake,  a  sheet  of  water  almost  choked  with  reeds,  which  accord- 
ing to  the  map  ought  to  be  close  to  the  Rovuma.    The  vegeta- 
tion, too,  indicated  a  greater  abundance  of  water  than  hitherto  ; 
we  passed  enormous  baobabs,  forced  our  way  through  low  palm- 
thickets  and  heard  the  leaves  of  stately  fan-palms  rustling 
far  above  our  heads.    Just  as  I  was  about  to  push  through 
another  clump  of  bushes,  the  strong  hand  of  m}^  new  corporal, 
Hemedi  Maranga,  dragged  me  back.    "  Mto  hapa,  Bwana  " — 
("There  is  the  river,  sir").    One  step  more,  and  I  should 
have  fallen  down  the  steep  bank,  some  sixteen  or  eighteen  feet 
in  height,  at  the  foot  of  which  I  now  see  the  gleam  of  those 
broad  reaches  which  Nils  Knudsen  has  so  often  described 
to  me,  and  which  have  not  failed  to  impress  men  so  free 
from  enthusiasm  as  Ewerbeck.    Having  so  often  heard  the 
word  hap  ana,  which  is  really  beginning  to  get  on  my  nerves, 
the  corporal's  hapa  was  a  pleasant  surprise,  and  it  is  no  wonder 
that  I  felt  inclined  to  bless  him.    What  shall  I  say  of  the  five 
or  six  pleasant  days  passed  on  the  banks  and  islands  of  this 
river,   consecrated  by  the  memory  of  Livingstone  ?  ^  The 
1  See  Last  Journals,  vol.  i,  chapters  i-iii. — [Tr.] 


ON  LIVINGSTONE'S  TRACK 


205 


ethnographer  finds  Httle  to  do  there  at  the  present  day.  Forty 
years  ago,  when  Livingstone  ascended  it,  its  banks  were  covered 
with  settlements  of  the  Wamatambwe,  its  current  carried  a 
thousand  canoes  of  that  energetic  fishing  tribe,  and  a  busy, 
cheerful  life  prevailed  everywhere.  But  here,  too,  the  Wangoni 
came  down,  hke  frost  on  a  spring  night,  and  of  the  once 


TWO   MATA.MliWE   MUTHliRS   IRO.M   THE  KUVUMA 


numerous  and  flourishing  Matambwe  only  scanty  remnants  are 
to  be  found,  irregularly  scattered  along  the  immense  Rovuma 
valley,  or  absorbed  into  the  Makua,  Yao  and  Makonde. 
The  traveller  is  lucky — as,  by  the  way,  I  usually  am — if  he  sees 
a  few  individuals  of  this  lost  tribe. 

We  made  our  first  camp  close  to  the  river.  My  tent,  as 
usual,  was  pitched  furthest  to  windward,  and  next  to  the  water, 


206 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Knudsen's  being  next  to  it ;  while  the  carriers  had  to  seek 
shelter  more  to  leeward,  under  an  overhanging  bank.  Steep 
banks  like  this  are  very  common  here.  During  the  rains  the 
river  carries  down  an  immense  volume  of  water  to  the  sea, 
and  piles  up  masses  of  alluvial  drift  to  a  greater  height  every 
year,  but  in  the  dry  season,  as  now,  its  bed,  nearly  a  mile 
wide,  is  almost  dry,  consisting  of  a  vast  expanse  of  sand  and 
gravel  banks.  Between  these  the  river  takes  a  somewhat 
uncertain  course,  sometimes  in  a  single  channel  about  as  wide 
as  the  Elbe  at  Dresden,  but  usually  divided  into  two  or  three 
easily-forded  arms.  Yet,  in  spite  of  its  powerlessness,  the  river 
is  aggressive,  and  constantly  washes  away  its  banks  at  the 
bends,  so  that  we  frequently  come  upon  trees  lying  in  the  stream 
which  have  been  undermined  and  fallen.  Its  bed  is,  therefore, 
continually  chemging,  as  is  the  case  with  the  Zambezi  and 
Shire,  and,  in  fact,  most  rivers  of  tropical  Africa. 

It  is  late  afternoon  :  a  dozen  natives  are  standing  in  a  circle 
on  a  level  spot  in  mid-channel  and  looking  round  them  atten- 
tively, almost  timidly,  staring  straight  at  the  water,  as  though 
anxious  to  penetrate  to  the  bottom.  What  are  they  after  ? 
Has  the  white  man  lost  some  valuable  property  for  which 
he  is  setting  them  to  look  ?  The  answer  is  much  simpler  than 
that.  Look  within  the  circle,  and  you  will  see  two  hats  floating 
on  the  surface  of  the  current.  When  they  raise  themselves 
a  little  from  the  shining  level,  you  will  see  two  white  faces — 
those  of  the  Wazungu,  Knudsen  and  Weule,  who,  delighted  to 
escape  for  once  from  the  rubber  bath  with  its  mere  half-bucket 
of  water,  are  cooling  their  limbs  in  the  vivifying  current.  And 
the  natives  ?  The  Rovuma  has  the  reputation — not  altogether 
undeserved — of  containing  more  crocodiles  than  any  other 
river  in  East  Africa,  and  therefore  it  is  as  well  to  station  a  chain 
of  outposts  round  us,  as  a  precautionary  measure.  It  is  highly 
amusing  to  watch  the  uneasy  countenances  of  these  heroes, 
though  the  water  for  a  long  way  round  does  not  come  up  to 
their  knees. 

Evening  is  coming  on  ;  a  stiff  westerly  breeze  has  sprung  up, 
sweeping  up  the  broad  river-channel  with  unopposed  violence, 
so  that  even  the  scanty  current  of  the  Rovuma  makes  a  poor 
attempt  at  waves.  Glad  of  the  unusual  sight,  the  eye  ranges 
far  and  wide  down  the  river.    Everything  is  still  as  death — 


NAUNGE  CAMP 


207 


no  trace  remains  of  the  old  joyous  Matambwe  life  as  it  was 
in  the  sixties.  There,  far  away,  on  the  last  visible  loop 
of  the  river,  appears  a  black  dot,  rapidly  increasing  in  size. 
Our  natives,  with  their  keen  sight,  have  spied  it  long  ago,  and 
are  staring  in  the  same  direction  as  ourselves.  "  Mtumhwi  " — 
(a  canoe)  !  they  exclaim  in  chorus,  when  the  dot  coming  round 
a  bend  becomes  a  black  line.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the 
canoe  has  reached  us,  a  dug-out  of  the  simplest  form,  with  a 
mournful  freight,  an  old  woman  crouching  in  the  stern  more 
dead  than  alive.  I  feel  sorry  for  the  poor  creature,  and  at  a 
sign  from  me  an  elderly  man  and  a  younger  one  spring  lightly 
to  the  bank.  A  few  questions  follow.  "  She  is  very  ill,  the 
hihi,'"  is  the  answer,  "  we  think  she  will  die  to-day."  I  can 
see  for  myself  that  no  human  help  will  avail.  The  two  men 
return  at  their  paddles,  and  in  ten  minutes  more  we  see  them 
landing  higher  up  on  the  other  side,  carrying  between  them  a 
shapeless  bundle  across  the  sand-bank  into  the  bush.  A  human 
destiny  has  fulfilled  itself. 

Nils  Knudsen  had  in  his  usual  enthusiastic  way  been  telling 
me  of  the  marvels  to  be  found  at  Naunge  camp,  higher  up  the 
Rovuma,  where  he  insisted  that  we  must  go.  This  time  he 
was  not  so  far  wrong  ;  in  fact,  the  wild  chaos  of  rocks  beside 
and  in  the  river,  the  little  cascades  between  the  mossy  stones, 
and  the  dark  green  of  the  vegetation  on  the  banks,  made  up 
an  attractive  picture  enough.  But  the  state  of  the  ground 
itself  !  The  trodden  grass  and  broken  bushes,  as  well  as  the 
unmistakable  smell,  showed  plainly  enough  that  it  was  a 
popular  camping-place  and  had  been  used  not  long  before. 
"  No,  thank  you  !  "  said  I.  "  Safari — forward  !  "  Here,  where 
we  were  directly  on  Livingstone's  track,  the  open  bush  begins 
a  couple  of  hundred  yards  away  from  the  bank.  With  three 
askari  to  cover  my  left  flank,  I  therefore  marched  up  stream, 
through  the  vegetation  lining  the  bank,  at  the  cost  of  inde- 
scribable toil,  but  rejoicing  in  the  view  of  the  river  with  its 
ever-changing  scenery.  At  last  I  found  what  I  was  looking 
for.  In  mid-channel,  at  a  distance  from  us  of  perhaps  six  or 
seven  hundred  yards,  rose  an  island,  steep  and  sharply-cut  as 
the  bow  of  a  man-of-war,  its  red  cliffs  shining  afar  over  the 
silvery  grey  of  the  sand-banks,  but  covered  at  the  top  with  a 
compact  mass  of  fresh  green  vegetation.    With  a  shrill  whistle 


208  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


to  call  my  followers  across  from  the  pori,  and  one  leap  down 
the  bank,  I  waded  through  the  deep  sand  direct  for  the  island. 

The  idyllic  life  which  I  enjoyed  for  some  days  on  this  island 
in  the  Rovuma  has  left  an  indelible  impression  on  my  memory 
Nils  Knudsen  was  always  hunting,  and  never  failed  to  return 
with  a  supply  of  meat  for  roasting,  which  kept  the  men  in  high 
good  humour.  Our  tents  were  pitched  in  a  narrow  sandy 
ravine  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff,  which  may  have  been  twenty- 
seven  or  twenty-eight  feet  high ;  the  men  were  encamped  at 
some  distance  to  leeward,  and  I  myself  was  alone  in  a  green 


TYPICAL  HUT  IN   THE   ROVUMA  VALLEY 


bower  at  the  top  of  the  island,  where  no  one  was  allowed  to 
approach  me  without  announcing  himself  in  the  words  pre- 
scribed by  Swahili  etiquette,  "  Hodi  Bwana ! "  Only  my 
personal  attendants  might  bring  me,  unannounced,  the  repasts 
prepared  by  Omari,  who  has  now  learned  to  cook  some  things 
so  as  not  to  be  absolutely  uneatable.  Altogetlier  it  was  a 
delightful  interlude. 

Equally  delightful  was  our  last  camp  on  the  Rovuma.  It 
was  at  the  mouth  of  the  Bangala,  its  largest  northern  tributary, 
so  imposing  on  the  map,  but  just  now  only  a  dry  channel.  The 
water  was  still  flowing  underground  ;  but  we  should  have  had 
to  dig  down  several  yards  to  reach  it.  We  did  not  find  it 
necessary  to  do  so,  having  abundance  of  clear  water  in  the 
Rovuma  itself,  where  my  men  led  quite  an  amphibious  life. 
How  neat  and  clean  they  all  looked  as  soon  as  daily  washing 
became  possible.       Mzuri  we!''  ("How  fine  you  are!")  I 


A  FASTIDIOUS  LION 


209 


remarked  appreciatively  in  passing  to  Chafu  koga,  the  Dirty 
Pig,  for  that  is  the  approximate  rendering  of  his  name.  The 
self-complacent  smile  on  his  bronze-coloured  face  was  by  itself 
worth  the  journey  to  Africa. 

There  is  only  one  drawback  to  life  on  the  Rovuma :  the 
gale  which  springs  up  about  sunset  and,  gradually  rising  till 
it  becomes  a  veritable  hurricane,  sinks  again  about  midnight. 
No  reed  fence  is  any  protection  against  it,  neither  is  it  any  use 
to  seek  shelter  behind  the  tent  ;  and  no  contrivance  so  far 
devised  will  keep  the  lamp  from  being  blown  out,  so  that  there 
is  nothing  for  it  but  to  go  to  bed  at  eight. 

Our  nights,  moreover,  were  disturbed  by  unwelcome  visitors. 
Elephants,  it  is  true,  which,  though  abounding  in  this  part  of 
the  country,  are  very  shy,  always  made  a  wide  circuit  round 
our  camp  ;  but  lions  seemed  to  be  fond  of  taking  moonlight 
walks  up  and  down  between  the  sleeping  carriers.  At  the 
Bangala,  the  sentry,  who  had  stood  a  little  way  off  with  his 
gun  at  the  ready,  related  to  me  with  a  malicious  grin  how  he 
saw  a  lion  walk  all  along  the  row  of  snoring  men,  and  stop 
at  Omari,  the  cook,  seemingly  considering  whether  to  eat 
him  or  not.  After  standing  like  this  for  some  time,  he  gave 
a  deep,  ill-tempered  growl,  as  if  he  did  not  consider  Omari 
sufficiently  appetising,  and  slowly  trotted  back  into  the  bush. 

Luisenfelde  Mine — I  do  not  know  what  Luise  gave  it  its 
name — will  long  remain  in  my  memory  as  a  greeting  from 
home,  in  the  heart  of  the  African  bush  ;  it  sounds  so  enter- 
prising and  yet  so  pleasantly  familiar.  It  is  true  that  the 
mining  operations  did  not  last  long,  though  the  former  owner, 
Herr  Vbhsen,  in  the  pride  of  his  heart,  bestowed  on  the  lustrous 
red  garnets  produced  there  the  name  of  "  Cape  rubies." 
Garnets  are  so  cheap  and  found  in  so  many  places  that  in  a 
very  short  time  the  market  was  glutted.  Herr  Marquardt, 
the  enterprising  manager,  went  home,  and  Nils  Knudsen,  his 
assistant  and  factotum,  remained  behind  forgotten  in  the  bush. 
Literally  in  the  bush,  for  the  well-built  house  with  its  double 
roof  of  corrugated  zinc  protected  by  an  outer  covering  of  thatch, 
was  shut  up,  and  the  Norwegian  had  to  find  shelter  as  best 
he  could  in  one  of  the  two  outhouses.  We  halted  here,  on 
our  march  northw^ard  from  the  Rovuma,  for  three  or  four 
hours,  so  as  to  eat  our  Sunday  dinner  under  the  verandah  of  the 

i4-(2i3i) 


210 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


manager's  house.  Here  we  had  before  us  a  double  reminder 
of  the  past :  in  the  middle  of  the  compound  a  great  heap  of  the 
unsaleable  "  Cape  rubies  "  which  were  to  have  realised  such 
fortunes,  and  now  lie  about  as  playthings  for  native  children, 
and  in  the  foreground  the  grave  of  Marquardt's  only  child,  a 
promising  little  girl  of  three,  who  came  here  with  her  parents 
full  of  health  and  life.  We  prosaic  Europeans  have  no  faith  in 
omens  ;  but  it  appears  that  the  child's  sudden  death  was  no 
surprise  to  the  natives.    Knudsen  tells  me  that  one  day  a 


DESERTED   BUILDINGS,    LUISENFELDE  MINE 


native  workman  from  the  garnet-pits  came  to  him  and  said, 
"  Some  one  will  die  here,  sir."  "  '  Nonsense  !  '  I  said,  and 
sent  him  away.  Next  day  he  came  again  and  said  the  same 
thing.  I  sent  him  about  his  business,  but  he  kept  coming. 
Every  night  we  heard  an  owl  crying  on  the  roof  of  Marquardt's 
house.  This  went  on  for  a  whole  fortnight,  and  then  Mar- 
quardt's little  girl  was  taken  ill  and  died  in  a  few  hours.  The 
bird  never  came  after  that.    They  call  it  likwikwi.'' 

One  story  suggests  another.  Matola  told  us  several  of  the 
same  sort,  as  we  sat  round  the  lamp  of  an  evening.  Here 
are  one  or  two  samples 

"  Between  this  (Chingulungulu)  and  Nyasa,"  said  Matola, 
"  is  a  high  mountain,  called  Mhla  ;  the  road  passes  close  to  it. 
Beside  the  road  are  two  axes  and  a  shovel,  ^  and  no  one  can 
carry  them  away.    If  anyone  picks  them  up  and  takes  them 

1  Query  "  a  hoe  "  ?    The  shovel  is  not  a  native  implement. — [Tr.] 


212  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


on  his  shoulder,  he  has  not  gone  far  before  he  feels  as  if  they 
were  no  longer  there,  and  when  he  turns  he  sees  them  going 
back  to  their  place.  But  the  owner  of  those  axes  and  that 
shovel  is  Nakale." 

The  other  story  is  as  follows  :  "  At  Mtarika's  (the  old  Yao 
chief  now  dead),  people  saw  a  great  wonder.  The  grains  of 
Usanye  (a  red  kind  of  millet)  cried  in  the  basket.  It  came  to 
pass  in  this  way  :  The  people  had  cut  off  the  heads  of  usanye 
in  the  garden  and  put  them  into  a  basket.    And  as  they  were 

pressed  together  in  the  basket  the 
grains  began  to  weep  and  to  scream. 
The  people  did  not  know  where  the 
crying  came  from,  and  turned  out  the 
basket,  to  look  in  it  and  under  it,  but 
they  could  find  nothing,  and  heard 
nothing  more.  Then  they  put  the 
grain  back  into  the  basket  and  the 
crying  began  again,  and  the  people 
were  frightened  and  ran  away  to  fetch 
others.  These  searched,  too,  but 
could  find  nothing,  and  they  all  went 
away  much  astonished.  But  when 
they  got  home,  they  found  the  mortar 
dancing,  and  all  the  large  earthen 
LiKwiKwi,  THE  BIRD  OF  bowls  (mbule)  wcrc  dancing  too,  and 
ILL  OMEN,  AS  DRAWN  BY     Jougololo,  thc  milhpede,  was  building 

A  MAKUA.       Seep.  372  ,  ■  r  ^  -,  ,  ?r 

himself  houses.  Next  day  they  all 
assembled  to  ask  each  other  what  could  be  the  meaning  of  all 
this.  And  three  days  after,  Mtarika  died.  That  was  the 
meaning  of  it." 

It  was  only  in  part  for  the  sake  of  the  past  that  w^e  visited 
Luisenfelde ;  we  should  scarcely  have  done  so  but  for  the  fact 
that  the  road  from  the  mouth  of  the  Bangala  to  Akundonde's 
runs  directly  past  it.  A  march  of  an  hour  and  a  half  or  two 
hours  up  the  deeply-excavated  ravine  of  the  Namaputa,  and 
a  short,  steep  ascent  to  the  crest  of  the  next  ridge,  brought  us  to 
Akundonde's.  We  saw  before  us  the  typical  native  settlement 
of  these  parts,  a  moderate-sized,  carefully-swept  open  space 
with  the  haraza  in  the  middle — a  roof  supported  on  pillars,  and 
open  all  round.    This  is  surrounded  by  some  half-dozen  huts„ 


4 

/  '^i  

1 . 

f 

AT  AKUNDONDE'S 


213 


LISAKASA    (ring    OF    HUTS    FOR  THE    UNYAGO)    IN    THE  FOREST 
NEAR  AKUNDONDE's 

round  or  square,  all  with  heavy  thatched  roofs,  the  eaves 
reaching  nearly  to  the  ground,  other  groups  of  huts  being 
scattered  at  long  intervals  all  along  the  crest  of  the  hill.  Akun- 
donde,  though  he  said  he  had  been  expecting  our  visit,  did 
not  seem  very  obliging  or  communicative.  We  could  scarcely 
attribute  this  to  the  after  effects  of  his  recent  libations — his 
throat  must  be  far  too  well  seasoned  for  that  ;  but  thought  it 
more  probable  that  his  bad  leg  made  him  feel  indisposed  for 
society.  I  had  just  one  bottle  of  "  jumbe  cognac  "  left,  that 
delectable  beverage,  which  smells  like  attar  of  roses,  but  has 
a  taste  which  I  cannot  attempt  to  describe,  and  this  I  bestowed 
on  the  old  chief,  but  took  no  further  notice  of  him,  which  I 
could  well  afford  to  do  without  endangering  the  success  of  my 
enterprise.  The  junior  headman  of  the  village, — a  smart  Yao, 
quite  a  dandy  according  to  local  standards,  who  even  wore 
a  watch  on  a  very  large  chain  and  consequently  had  to 
look  at  the  time  every  two  minutes — proved  a  much  more 


214-  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


competent  guide  to  the  life  and  customs  of  this  remote  district 
than  morose  old  x\kundonde.  The  young  man  showed  us 
plenty  of  indigenous  works  of  art — we  had  only  to  go  from 
house  to  house  and  look  under  the  eaves  to  find  the  walls 
covered  with  frescoes.  He  also  conducted  us  to  a  small  burying 
ground — a  few  Yao  graves  sheltered  by  low  thatched  roofs 


YAO  GRAVES  AT  AKUNDONDE's 


(now  somewhat  dilapidated)  which,  with  the  cloth  fastened 
on  the  top,  I  now  saw  for  the  first  time. 

Having  previously  heard  that  the  unyago  was  taking  place 
this  year  at  Akundonde's,  we  made  every  effort  to  see  and  hear 
as  much  as  possible.  The  promise  of  a  princely  remuneration 
soon  brought  about  the  desired  result,  but  the  jumbe  told  me 
that  the  carriers  and  soldiers  could  not  be  allowed  to  come  with 
me,  though  Moritz  and  Kibwana  would  be  admitted.  My 
two  boys  are  by  this  time  heartily  sick  of  campaigning,  and 
their  sense  of  duty  requires  stimulating  in  the  usual  way  ;  but 
this  done,  they  trudge  along,  though  reluctantly,  behind  us 
with  the  camera. 

The  headman  leads  us  out  of  the  village  through  byways, 
evidently  desiring  to  escape  notice,  and  then  our  party  of  five 


THE  UNYAGO  BAND 


215 


plunges  into  the  silent  bush,  which  here,  with  its  large  trees 

almost  reminds  me  of  our  German  forests  ;  the  foliage,  too,  is 

fresher  and  more  abundant  than  we  ever  saw  it  on  the  other 

side  of  Chingulungulu.    In  the  natural  excitement  of  the  new^ 

discoveries  awaiting  us,  I  pay  no  heed  to  place  or  time— I 

cannot  tell  whether  we  have  been  walking  for  half-an-hour  or 

an  hour,  when,  breaking  through  a  thicket,  we  see  a  small  hut 

before  us  and  find  that  we  have  reached  our  goal. 

Our  exertions  have  been  amply  rewarded.    Before  I  have 

yet  had  time  to  note  the  size,  construction  and  workmanship 

of  the  hut,  we  are  surrounded  by  a  troop  of  half -grown  boys. 

With  loud  cries  and  energetic  gestures  the  jumhe  orders  them 

back,  and  I  now  perceive  the  approach  of  an  elderly  man  who 

must  have  come  out  of  the  hut,  for  he  suddenly  appears  as  if  he 

had  risen  out  of  the  ground.    This  is  the  wa  mijira,  ^  the  man 

who  presides  over  all  the  ceremonies  of  the  boys'  unyago.  He 

greets  us  solemnly  and  signals  with  a  barely  perceptible  motion 

of  his  eyelids  to  the  boys.    These  are  already  drawn  up  in  a 

long  row  :  strange,  slight  figures  in  the  wide  grass  kilts  which 

make  them  look  like  ballet-dancers.    Each  one  holds  to  his 

mouth  a  flute-like  instrument  from  which  they  proceed  to 

elicit  a  musical  salute.    Once  more  I  have  to  regret  my  lack 

of  musical  training,  for  this  performance  is  unique  of  its  kind. 

After  hearing  the  not  unpleasing  melody  to  its  close,  I 

approach  near  enough  to  make  a  closer  inspection  of  the  band. 

Tlie  instruments  are  nothing  more  than  pieces  of  bamboo, 

each  differing  from  the  rest  in  length  and  diameter,  but  all 

closed  at  the  lower  end  by  the  natural  joint  of  the  reed,  and  cut 

off  smoothly  at  the  upper.    In  this  way,  each  of  the  little 

musicians  can  only  play  one  note,  but  each  produces  his 

own  with  perfect  correctness  and  fits  it  so  accurately  into 

the  concerted  "  song  without  words  "  as  to  form  an  entirely 

harmonious  whole.    Moritz  has  meanwhile  been  attending 

to  his  duties  as  Minister  of  Finance,  and  some  of  the  boys  have 

even  been  persuaded  to  retire  behind  the  hut  and  show  me 

the  result  of  the  surgical  operation  which  they  underwent 

1  More  correctly  in  Yao,  Jua  Michila  =  "  (he)  of  the  tails."  The 
Rev.  Duff  Macdonald  says  that  he  is  called  "  the  rattler  of  the  tails," 
juakuchimula  michila.  Tails  of  animals  are  supposed  to  have  great 
efficacy  in  magic,  and  usually  belong  to  a  witch-doctor's  outfit,  either 
forming  part  of  his  costume  or  carried  in  his  hand. — [Tr.] 


216  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


NDAGALA    (CIRCU  MClSION-LODGE)    IN    THi::    1-OREST   NEAR  AKUNDONDE'S 


about  a  month  ago,  but  which  in  some  cases  is  still  causing 
suppuration.  Now,  however,  I  wish  to  see  the  inside  of  the 
hut. 

The  European  in  Africa  soon  grows  accustomed  to  do 
without  luxuries  for  his  own  part,  and  would  never  dream  of 
looking  for  them  in  the  dwellings  of  the  natives ;  but  the 
primitive  roughness  of  this  place  in  which  fifteen  boys  are 
expected  to  live  for  several  months,  baffles  description.  The 
ndagala,  as  the  circumcision-lodge  is  officially  called,  is  a  good- 
sized  building,  being  about  thirty-two  feet  by  thirteen,  but 
neither  the  walls,  constructed  of  crooked,  knotty  logs,  with 
gaps  between  them  affording  free  admission  to  the  wind, 
nor  the  very  airy  and  badly-kept  thatch  of  the  roof,  are 
much  protection  against  the  cold  at  night.  There  is  a  door- 
way in  the  centre  of  each  longitudinal  wall,  but  no  doors. 
On  entering  one  sees  in  the  first  instance  nothing  but  millet- 
straw  mixed  with  heaps  of  ashes.  This  straw  covers  the 
floor,  lies  in  heaps  against  the  walls,  and  is  spread  out  untidily 


THE  LUPANDA 


217 


over  sixteen  originally,  doubtless,  quite  decent  beds.  One  of 
these  couches  is  appropriated  to  the  master,  the  others  are  those 
on  which  his  disciples  have  not  only  slept,  but  undergone  the 
painful  operation  without  anaesthesia  or  antiseptic  treatment 
of  any  kind,  but  with  set  teeth  and  in  silence.  Every  sign  of 
suffering  on  such  occasions  is  sternly  forbidden  by  the  Yaos, 
these  East  African  Spartans.  If,  in  spite  of  all  his  resolution, 
some  poor  little  fellow,  really  only  a  child,  is  unable  to  suppress 
a  cry  of  painf,/he  finds  himself  roared  down  by  the  anamungwi, 
his  master  and  his  companions. 

The  fifteen  beds  are  already  much  dilapidated  ;  some  are  quite 
broken,  and  others  show  but  scant  traces  of  the  neat  arrange- 
ment of  straw  which  distinguished  them  at  first.  The  great 
heap  of  ashes  beside  every  bed  shows  that  the  little  patients 
try  to  protect  themselves  against  the  cold  at  night  by  keeping 
up  a  good  fire.  They  all  look  thoroughly  neglected,  and  are 
thickly  encrusted  with  dirt,  dust  and  ashes  from  head  to  foot, 
so  that  the  bath  which  concludes  the  ceremonies  in  the  ndagala, 
and  therefore  the  novitiate  of  the  candidates,  is  not  only  along 
foregone  pleasure,  but  a  direct  necessity. 

In  the  centre  of  the  hut  we  see  the  branch  of  a  tree  set  up  in 
the  ground.  It  is  painted  in  various  colours  and  hung  with 
strips  of  skin,  tails  of  animals  and  skins  of  birds.  This  is  called 
the  lupanda,  and  from  it  the  whole  ceremony  takes  its  name, 
the  term  unyago  being  applied  to  initiation  ceremonies  in 
general,  that  of  lupanda  to  the  boys'  "  mysteries  "  only. 
Nothing  more  is  to  be  got  out  of  the  old  man,  so  that  I  shall 
have  to  find  some  other  informant,  especially  with  regard  to  the 
girls'  unyago,  which,  by  all  I  hear  must  be  at  least  as  interesting 
as  the  lupanda.  Part  of  my  wish  was  unexpectedly  gratified 
a  day  or  two  later.  The  jumhe,  roused  to  enthusiasm  by  the 
fee  received  for  his  services,  came  to  us  in  great  haste  just  after 
dinner.  We  have  pitched  our  camp  on  a  spot  with  a  beautiful 
view  but  imperfectly  sheltered  from  the  evening  gale,  at  the 
edge  of  the  bush  on  the  highest  point  of  the  hill.  Knudsen  at 
first  pleaded,  as  on  previous  occasions,  for  the  occupation  of 
the  baraza  ;  but  our  old  enemy  the  whirlwind,  which  of  course 
surprised  us  just  as  the  pea-soup  was  being  dished  up,  soon 
brought  him  to  a  better  mind.  As  we  were  dozing  under  the 
banda,  a  shelter  of  branches  and  grass,  such  as  every  mnyampara 


218 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


and  his  men  can  set  up  in  a  few  minutes,  pressing  our  hands 
from  sheer  habit  to  our  aching  temples  and  thinking  of  nothing 
— unquestionably  the  best  occupation  in  these  latitudes— the 
pmibe  came  running  up,  shouting  from  afar  that  a  chiputu 
was  going  on  at  Akuchikomu's.  The  hwana  mkubwa  and  the 
hwana  mdogo  might  see  a  great  deal  if  they  would  go,  but  the 
women  were  shy  and  timid,  and  the  carriers  and  soldiers  could 
not  be  allowed  to  come  with  us.  In  a  few  minutes  we  were 
on  the  road,  Moritz  and  Kibwana  being  heavily  loaded,  as 
this  time  I  brought  not  only  my  large  camera,  but  the  cine- 
matograph, too  long  inactive,  from  which  I  hoped  great  things. 
The  walk  was  a  longer  one  than  on  the  previous  day,  the  road 
at  first  leading  north-eastward  along  the  crest  of  the  ridge, 
and  then  turning  to  the  west  and  descending  into  the  green 
valley  of  a  babbling  stream.  Before  reaching  the  valley  we 
found  the  road  barred  by  a  huge  circle  of  huts — structures  of 
the  most  primitive  kind  consisting  merely  of  a  few  poles  driven 
into  the  ground,  upright  or  slanting,  and  joined  at  the  top  by 
a  horizontal  cross-piece,  the  whole  thatched  with  the  long 
African  grass.  But  these  sheds  w^ere  arranged  with  almost 
mathematical  precision  in  a  continuous  circle  of  over  fifty  yards 
in  diameter.  This  is  the  real  place  where  the  festival — not,  how- 
ever, the  ceremony  we  have  come  to  see,  but  the  lupanda — is 
held.  Here  the  long  series  of  observances  begins  with  dancing, 
feasting  and  singing,  and  here,  when  the  boys  return  after  their 
three  or  four  months'  absence,  recovered  from  the  operation  and 
initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  sexual  life  and  the  moral  code  of 
the  tribe,  the  closing  celebration  takes  place.  So  out  with 
tripod,  camera,  and  plates.  Though  but  a  beginner  in  photo- 
graphy when  I  started,  I  have  long  ago  by  dint  of  continual 
practice  become  a  fundi  w^ho  can  take  his  twenty  or  thirty  nega- 
tives in  a  few  minutes.  One  glance  at  the  two  little  mounds 
of  ashes  occupying  fixed  positions  in  the  arena,  and  then  we 
were  off  again. 

By  two  in  the  afternoon  we  had  reached  a  miserable  little 
Makua  village  ;  indeed,  it  scarcely  deserves  the  name  of  a  village, 
though  the  inhabitants  of  its  two  or  three  wretched  huts  had 
taken  upon  themselves  to  entertain  the  whole  neighbourhood. 
In  fact,  a  large  crowd  was  assembled,  consisting  chiefly  of 
women  and  girls,  the  men  being  decidedly  in  a  minority.  •  This 


THE  WOMEN'S  FESTIVAL 


219 


alone  would  be  sufficient  to  stamp  the  festival  as  one  belonging 
peculiarly  to  the  women. 

The  structure  where  this  ceremony  was  to  take  place  was 
typically  African,  not  over  large,  but  quite  sufficiently  so  for 
the  object  in  view.  The  natives  thoroughly  understand  the 
art  of  putting  up  buildings  admirably  suited  to  the  purpose 
they  are  to  serve,  and  also  quite  pleasing  in  style  and  shape, 
out  of  the  cheapest  materials  and  with  the  simplest  appliances, 
in  a  very  short  time.  This  hut  was  circular,  with  an  encircling 
wall  of  poles  and  millet  straw,  between  six  and  seven  feet  high. 
It  was  about  thirty  feet  in  diameter,  with  two  doorways  facing 
each  other,  and  a  central  post  supporting  the  roof.  The  women 
were  just  entering  in  solemn  procession,  while  the  tuning  up 
of  several  drums  was  heard  from  the  inside.  The  jumbe^s 
hint  as  to  the  shyness  of  the  women  was  abundantly  justified  ; 
those  w^ho  caught  sight  of  us  at  once  ran  away.  The  parti- 
cipants only  grew  calm  when  we  had  succeeded  in  getting 
up  unseen  close  to  the  outer  wall  of  the  building  and  there 
finding  shelter  in  a  group  of  men  disposed  to  be  sensible. 
It  was,  however,  even  now^  impossible  to  sketch  any  of  the 
women.  I  am  in  the  habit,  wlierever  I  can,  of  jotting  down 
in  a  few  rapid  strokes  every  picturesque  "  bit  "  I  come  across, 
and  here  I  found  them  in  unusual  number.  Since  I  left  the 
coast,  labrets,  nose-pins,  and  ear-studs  have  become  quite 
hackneyed,  but  hitherto  I  had  come  across  no  specimens  of  such 
size  or  racial  types  so  markedly  savage  and  intact.  When 
one  of  these  women  laughs,  the  effect  is  simply  indescribable. 
So  long  as  her  face  keeps  its  normal  serious  expression,  the 
snow-white  disc  remains  in  a  horizontal  position,  that  is  to 
say,  if  the  wearer  is  still  young  and  good-looking.  If,  however, 
she  breaks  into  the  short,  giggling  laugh  peculiar  to  the  young 
negress,  the  pelele  flies  up  with  an  abrupt  jerk  and  stands 
straight  up  over  the  ivory-white  and  still  perfect  teeth,  while 
the  young  woman's  pretty  brown  eyes  flash  with  merriment, 
and  the  weight  of  the  heavy  wooden  plug  sets  up  a  quick 
vibration  in  the  upper  lip,  which  is  dragged  out  by  almost  a 
hand-breadth  from  its  normal  position.  Then  the  baby  on 
the  woman's  back  (nearly  all  of  them  are  carrying  babies), 
begins  to  cry  piteously  under  the  searching  gaze  of  the 
strange  white  man  ;  •  and,  in  short,  the  whole  spectacle  ^is 


220 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


one  which  must  be  seen  to  be  appreciated — no  pen  can 
describe  it. 

Our  place  was  well  chosen,  and  enabled  us  to  survey  the 
whole  interior  of  the  hut  without  let  or  hindrance.  I  noticed 
three  youths  sitting  on  stools  of  honour  in  a  reserved  part  of 
the  hall,  and  inquired  of  the  jumhe,  who  stood  beside  me, 


obligingly  ready  to  be  of  use,  who  those  three  little  shrimps 
were  ?  It  appeared  that  they  were  the  husbands  of  the  girls 
whose  chiputu  was  being  celebrated  that  day. 

And  what  is  chiputu  ?  It  is  the  celebration  of  a  girl's 
arrival  at  womanhood  ;  but  that  is  a  long  story,  which  we  have 
no  time  to  investigate  just  now,  for  the  drums  have  struck 
up,  in  that  peculiar  cadence,  heard  at  every  ngoma,  which  no 
one  who  has  visited  East  Africa  can  ever  forget.  At  the 
same  moment  the  closely-packed  throng  of  black  bodies  has 
already  arranged  itself  for  a  dance.  With  a  step  something 
like  the  gait  of  a  water-wagtail,  they  move,  rhythmically 
gliding  and  rocking,  round  the  central  posts,  at  which  three 
old  hags  stand  grinning. 

"  Who  are  those  ?  "  I  ask. 

Those  are  the  anamungwi,  the  instructresses  of  the  three 
girls  ;  they  are  to  receive  the  reward  of  their  work  to-day. 
"  See  now,  sir,  what  is  happening."    For  the  moment  nothing 


LAUGHING  BEAUTIES 


THE  TEACHERS'  FEE 


221 


happens,  the  dance  goes  on  and  on,  first  in  the  way  already 
described,  then  changing  to  one  which  is  not  so  much  African 
as  generaUy  Oriental  :  it  is  the  so-called  danse  du  ventre.  At 
last  this  too  comes  to  an  end,  the  figure  breaks  up  in  wild  confu- 
sion, one  snatching  in  this  direction,  another  in  that,  and  every- 
one gathers  once  more  round  the  anamungwi. 
These  are  no  longer  ^j^^^^^^fe^  smiling,  but  com- 
port them-  ^^HS^^MS^^^^^  selves  with 
great  dignity     JBiRfflai^l&iiiik     as  they  have 


GIRLS  UNVAtX. 


Tilli    MAKONDE    HAMLET   OF  NIUCHI 


every  right  to  do.  One  after  another,  the  women  come 
forward  to  hand  them  their  gifts,  pieces  of  new  cloth, 
strings  of  beads,  bead  necklaces  and  armlets,  and  various  items 
of  a  similar  character.  "  That  is  all  very  fine,"  their  looks 
seem  to  say,  "  but  is  this  an  equivalent  for  the  unspeakable 
trouble  which  the  training  of  our  amwali,  our  pupils,  has 
given  us  for  years  past  ?  We  expect  something  more  than 
that  !  "  However,  the  festive  throng  are  not  in  the  least 
disturbed  by  this  mute  criticism  ;  people  all  chatter  at  once, 
just  as  they  do  in  other  parts  of  the  world,  and  everyone  is 
in  the  highest  spirits. 

Now  comes  a  new  stage.  "  Hawara  marre,"  mutters  the 
jumhe.  This  even  Nils  Knudsen  cannot  translate,  for  it  is 
Kimakua,  which  he  does  not  know,  but  the  jumhe,  like  all 
intelligent  men  in  this  country,  is  a  polyglottist.  He  says 
the  Yao  for  it  is  '^Chisuwi  mkamule'^  ("The  leopard  breaks 


222 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


out  ") .  At  this  moment  something  unexpected  happens.  The 
three  young  fehows  rise  quick  as  hghtning,  and,  with  loud 
crashing  and  rusthng,  they  have  burst  through  the  fragile  hut- 
waU  and  are  seen  retiring  towards  the  outskirts  of  the  village. 
I  have  not  yet  clearly  made  out  whether  these  youthful 
husbands  themselves  represent  the  leopard  or  whether  they 
are  to  be  thought  of  as  pursued  by  an  imaginary  leopard. 
In  either  case,  the  leisurely  pace  at  which  they  stroll  away 
is  scarcely  convincing  and  still  less  imposing ;  less  so,  certainly, 
than  the  song  of  Hawara  mane,  rendered  by  the  women 
with  equal  spirit  and  energy,  which  rings  out  into  the  sun- 
baked pori  long  after  the  three  leopards  have  vanished  in  the 
distance. 

Now  comes  another  picture  ;  the  hall  is  empty,  but  the 
open  space  beside  it,  which  has  been  carefully  swept,  sw^arms 
with  brightly-coloured  fantastic  figures.  It  is  only  now  that 
w^e  can  see  how  they  have  adorned  themselves  for  the  occasion. 
The  massive  brass  bangles,  nearly  an  inch  thick,  which  they 
wear  on  their  wrists  and  ankles,  shine  like  burnished  gold, 
and  the  calico  of  their  skirts  and  upper  garments  is  of  the 
brightest  colours.  These  cloths,  in  fact,  have  just  been 
bought  from  the  Indian  traders  at  Lindi  or  Mrweka,  at 
great  expense,  by  the  gallant  husbands,  who  have  recently 
made  an  expedition  to  the  coast  for  the  purpose.  The  white 
pelele  seems  to  shine  whiter  than  usual,  and  the  woolly  heads 
and  brown  faces  are  quite  lustrous  with  freshly-applied  castor 
oil,  the  universal  cosmetic  of  these  regions.  Once  more  the 
anamungwi  take  up  a  majestic  pose,  and  once  more  all  the 
women  crowed  round  them.  This  time  the  presents  consist 
of  cobs  of  maize,  heads  of  millet,  and  other  useful  household 
supplies,  which  are  showered  wholesale  on  the  recipients. 

Once  more  the  scene  changes.  The  drummers  have  been 
tuning  up  their  instruments  more  carefully  than  usual,  and 
at  this  moment  the  fire  blazes  up  for  the  last  time  and  then 
expires.  The  first  drum  begins — boom,  boom,  boom,  boom, 
boom,  boom,  boom,  boom,  boom  :  two  short  notes  followed  by  a 
long  one.  How  the  man's  hands  fly  !  There  are  more  ways 
of  drumming  than  one,  certainly, — but  the  art  as  practised 
here  seems  to  require  a  special  gift.  It  is  by  no  means  a  matter 
of  indifference  whether  the  drumhead  is  struck  with  the  whole 


THE  IKOMA  DANCE 


223 


hand,  or  with  the  finger-tips  only,  or  whether  the  sound  is 
produced  by  the  knuckles  or  finger-joints  of  the  closed  fist. 
It  is  pretty  generally  assumed  that  we  Europeans  have  an 
entirely  difterent  mental  organization  from  that  of  the  black 
race,  but  even  we  are  not  unaffected  by  the  rhythm  of  this 
particular  kind  of  drumming.  On  the  contrary,  the  European 
involuntarily  begins  to  move  his  legs  and  bend  his  knees  in 
time  to  the  music,  and  would  almost  feel  impelled  to  join  the 
ranks  of  the  dancers,  were  it  not  for  the  necessity  of  maintaining 
the  decorum  of  the  ruling  race,  and  of  keeping  eye  and  ear  on 
the  alert  for  everything  that  is  going  forward. 

The  dance  which  the  women  are  now  performing  is  called 
ikoma.  ^  Our  eyes  are  insufficiently  trained  to  perceive  the 
slight  differences  between  these  various  choric  dances,  and  so 
we  grew  tired  with  mere  looking  on  long  before  the  natives,  who 
are  exerting  themselves  to  the  utmost,  begin  to  weary.  In 
this  case  the  sun  contributes  to  the  result,  and  Moritz  is  already 
feeling  ill,  as  he  says,  from  the  smell  of  the  crowd  ;  though  he 
certainly  has  no  right  to  look  down  on  his  compatriots  in  this 
respect.  It  is  true  that  he  has  improved  since  the  day  at 
Lindi,  when  I  drove  him  before  my  kiboko  into  the  Indian 
Ocean,  because  he  diffused  around  him  such  a  frightful  efflu- 
vium of  "  high  "  shark,  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  himself  had 
been  buried  for  months.  I  am  just  about  to  pack  up  my 
apparatus,  when  the  uniform,  somewhat  tedious  rhythm  in 
which  the  crowd  of  black  bodies  is  moving  suddenly  changes. 
Hitherto,  everything  has  been  characterized  by  the  utmost 
decency,  even  according  to  our  standards,  but  now  what  do 
I  see  ?'  With  swift  gesture  the  bright-coloured  draperies 
fly  up,  leaving  legs  and  hips  entirely  free,  the  feet  move 
faster,  and  with  a  more  vivacious  and  rapid  motion  the  dancers 
now  circle  round  one  another  in  pairs.  I  am  fixed  to  the  spot 
by  a  sight  I  have  often  heard  of,  but  which  has  never  come 
in  my  way  before  : — the  large  keloids  which,  in  the  most 
varied  patterns  cover  these  parts  of  the  body.  The  scars 
are  raised  to  this  size  by  cutting  again  and  again  during  the 
process  of  healing.  This,  too,  belongs  to  the  ideal  of  beauty 
in  this  country. 

Unfortunately,  I  was  not  able  to  await  the  end  of  the  ikoma. 

1  The  Makua  word  corresponding  to  ngoma. — [Tr.] 


224  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


The  performers,  in  spite  of  the  small  silver  coin  which  I  had 
distributed  to  each  of  them,  were  evidently  constrained  in 
the  presence  of  a  European, — a  being  known  to  most  of  them 
only  by  hearsay — and  the  spontaneous  merriment  which  had 
prevailed  inside  the  hut  was  not  to  be  recovered.  Besides, 
I  was  forced,  out  of  consideration  for  Moritz,  who  was  now 
quite  grey  in  the  face,  to  return  as  quickly  as  possible. 

Akundonde's  junior  headman  is  excellent  as  a  practical 
guide,  but  has  little  theoretic  knowledge, — he  is  probably 
too  young  to  know  much  of  the  traditional  lore  of  his  own 
tribe  and  the  Makua.  Old  Akundonde  himself  keeps  silence, 
— perhaps  because  he  needs  a  stronger  inducement  than  any 
yet  received.  This,  however,  I  am  unable  to  offer,  especially 
as  we  ourselves  have  to  subsist  on  our  tinned  goods,  the  usual 
lean  fowls  and  a  few  old  guinea-fowl  shot  by  Knudsen.  There 
is  no  trace  of  the  liberal  gifts  of  pombe  which  had  delighted 
our  thirsty  souls  at  Masasi  and  Chingulungulu. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  light  hearts  that  we  left  Akundonde's 
on  the  fourth  day  for  Newala.  The  stages  of  our  three  days' 
march  were  Chingulungulu,  where  we  had  left  a  considerable 
part  of  our  baggage,  and  Mchauru,  a  very  scattered  village  in 
a  district  and  on  a  river  of  the  same  name,  in  the  foothills 
of  the  Makonde  plateau.  Mchauru  is  interesting  enough  in 
several  respects.  First,  topographically  :  the  river,  which  has 
excavated  for  itself  a  channel  sixty,  in  some  places  even  ninety 
feet  deep,  in  the  loose  alluvial  soil,  runs  south-westward  towards 
the  Rovuma.  On  reaching  the  bottom  of  this  gorge,  after  a 
difficult  climb,  we  found  no  running  water,  but  had  to  dig  at 
least  a  fathom  into  the  clean  sand  before  coming  on  the  subter- 
ranean supply.  The  deep,  narrow  water-holes,  frequently 
met  with  show  that  the  natives  are  well  aware  of  this  circum- 
stance. .  The  vegetation  in  this  whole  district,  however,  is 
very  rich,  and  it  is  not  easy  to  see  at  present  whence  it  comes, 
since  we  are  on  the  landward  side  of  the  hills  whose  seaward 
slope  precipitates  the  rains.  It  is  possible  that  the  soil  here 
holds  more  moisture  than  in  other  parts  of  the  plain. 

Mchauru  has  not  only  charming  scenery  but  abounds  in 
ethnographic  interest.  It  possesses,  in  the  first  place,  a  fundi 
who  makes  the  finest  ebony  nose-pins  in  the  country,  and 
inlays  them  with  zinc  in  the  most  tasteful  manner,  and  secondly. 


A  MEDICINE  MAN 


225 


a  celebrated  magician  by  the  name  of  Medula.  In  fact,  it 
was  on  account  of  these  two  men  that  I  halted  here  at  all. 
The  nose-pin-maker  was  not  to  be  found — we  were  told  that 
he  was  away  on  a  journey — but  Medula  was  at  home. 

From  our  camp,  pitched  under  a  huge  tree  beside  the  road, 
we — that  is  Knudsen  and  I,  with  my  more  immediate  followers 
carrying  '  the  apparatus — walked  through  banana  groves 
(which  I  now  saw  for  the  first  time),  and  extensive  fields  of 
maize,  beans,  and  peas,  ready  for  gathering,  in  a  south- 
westerly direction  for  nearly  an  hour.  At  intervals  the  path 
runs  along  the  bed  of  a  stream,  where  the  deep  sand  makes 
walking  difficult.  At  last,  on  ascending  a  small  hill,  we  found 
ourselves  before  an  open  shed  in  which  an  old  native  was 
seated,  not  squatting  in  the  usual  way,  but  with  his  legs 
stretched  out  before  him,  like  a  European.  After  salutations, 
m}^  errand  was  explained  to  him, — I  wanted  him  to  tell  me  all 
about  his  medicines  and  sell  me  some  of  them,  also  to  weave 
something  for  us.  According  to  native  report,  there  are 
only  two  men  left  in  the  whole  country  who  still  possess  this 
art,  already  obsolete  through  the  cheapness  of  imported  calico. 
Medula  is  one  of  these  weavers, — the  other,  a  tottering  old 
man,  I  saw,  several  weeks  ago,  at  Mkululu.  I  was  greatly 
disappointed  in  him  ;  he  had  not  the  faintest  notion  of  weaving, 
and  there  was  nothing  in  the  shape  of  a  loom  to  be  seen  in  his 
hut  ;  the  only  thing  he  could  do  was  to  spin  a  moderately  good 
cotton  thread  on  the  distaff. 

I  expected  more  satisfactory  results  from  Medula ;  but  the 
medicines  were  the  first  point  to  be  attended  to.  We  haggled 
with  him  hke  x\rmenians,  but  he  would  concede  nothing, 
finally  showing  us  one  or  two  of  the  usual  calabashes  with  their 
questionable  contents,  but  demanding  so  exorbitant  a  price 
that  it  was  my  turn  to  say,  as  I  had  great  satisfaction  in 
doing,  "  Hapana  rafiki  "  ("It  won't  do,  my  friend").  Medula 
is  a  philosopher  in  his  way — "  Well,  if  it  won't,  it  won't," 
appeared  to  be  his  reflection,  as  he  turned  the  conversation  to 
the  subject  of  his  name,  then  tried  to  pronounce  mine,  and 
gradually  passed  over  to  the  second  part  of  our  programme. 
All  this  time  I  was  on  the  watch  with  my  camera,  like  the 
reporter  of  some  detestable  ihustrated  weekly.  Medula  was 
seated  in  an  unfavourable  position  :  bright  light  outside — 
15— (2131) 


PARTICIPANTS    ASSEMBLING   AT  THE   UNYAGO  HUT 


PRESENTATION   OF  CALICO  BY  THE  MOIi;!:!:- 


DANCE   OF  THE   OLD  WOMEN 


ARRIVAL  OF  THE  NOVICES 

girls'   UNYAGO  AT  THE  MATAMBWE  VILLAGE  OF  MANGUPA.  I 


OLD   WOMEN  GROUPED   ROUND  THE  GIRLS  TO   BE  INITIATED 


DANCE  OF    iilE   uLD   WOMEN   ROUND   THE  INITIATES 


DANCE   OF  THE    INITIATES    BEFORE  THE   OLD  WOMEN 


DEPARTURE   OF  THE  INITIATES 


girls'  UNYAGO  at  the  MATAMBWE  village  of  MAMGUPA.  II 


228  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


deep  shadow  within  his  cool  hut.  I  requested  him  to  change 
his  seat — he  declined.  My  entreaties  and  flatteries  had  no 
other  result  than  to  make  him  grin,  deliberately  get  out  his 
pipe,  light  it  with  a  burning  coal,  and  puff  away  without 
moving.  Trusting  to  my  Voigtlander's  lens,  I  at  last  let  him 
alone,  as  things  had  come  to  a  standstill,  and  I  wanted  to  see 
the  loom  and  its  use.    Medula  said  that  he  must  first  make 


OLD  MEDULA  LIGHTING  HIS  PIPE 


the  thread.  I  submitted  ;  the  old  man  put  a  leisurely  hand 
into  a  basket,  deliberately  took  out  a  handful  of  cotton-seeds, 
husked  them  secundum  artem  and  began  beating  the  flaky  white 
mass  with  a  little  stick.  In  a  surprisingly  short  time  a  fairly 
large  quantity  of  cotton  was  reduced  to  the  proper  consistency  ; 
Medula  seized  it  in  his  left  hand  and  began  to  pull  out  the 
thread  with  his  right.  So  far  the  process  looked  famihar  ; 
the  people  who  came  over  every  winter  during  my  boyhood 
from  Eichsfeld  to  our  Hanoverian  village,  to  spin  the  farmers* 
wool  for  them,  always  began  in  the  same  way.  The  parallel, 
however,  ceased  with  the  next  step,  and  the  procedure  became 
entirely  prehistoric.  The  new  thread  was  knotted  on  to 
the  end  of  that  on  the  distaff,  the  latter  drawn  through  a 


MEDULA'S  SPINNING 


229 


cleft  which  takes  the  place  of  the  eye  on  our  spinning-wheel, 
the  spindle  whirled  in  the  right  hand,  the  left  being  extended 
as  far  as  possible — and  then  both  arms  moved  downward  ;  the 
spindle  was  quickly  rolled  round  on  the  upper  part  of  the  thigh, 
and  the  thread  was  ready  for  winding.  Medula  contrived 
to  weary  us  out  with  this  performance,  but  never  produced 
his  loom,  in  whose  existence  I  have  entirely  ceased  to  believe. 
He  promised  at  our  parting — which  was  marked  by  a  decided 
coolness — to  bring  the  implement  with  him  to  Newala  ;  but 
not  even  the  most  stupid  of  my  men  gave  any  credit  to  his 
assurance. 


CHAPTER  XII 


UNYAGO  EVERYWHERE 

Newala,  middle  of  September,  1906. 

The  charming  festival  recently  witnessed  at  Achikomu's 
seems  to  have  broken  the  spell  which  debarred  me,  just  when 
the  season  was  at  its  height,  from  gaining  an  insight  into  this 
most  important  and  interesting  subject.  In  the  short  period 
since  my  arrival  at  Newala,  I  have  been  present  at  no  less 
than  two  typical  celebrations,  both  of  them  girls'  unyagos. 
This  I  owe  to  the  kindness  of  the  Akida  Sefu. 

Sefu  bin  Mwanyi  is  an  Arab — apparently  of  unmixed 
blood — from  Sudi.  He  is  a  tall,  light-complexioned  man, 
with  finely-cut  features.  He  knows  a  number  of  languages, 
excelling  even  Knudsen  in  this  respect,  and  I  cannot  say 
enough  of  the  obliging  way  in  which  he  has  endeavoured  to 
further  my  plans  ever  since  my  arrival. 

After  a  fatiguing  climb  up  the  edge  of  the  cliff  bordering 
the  plateau,  which  just  at  Newala  is  particularly  steep,  and 
a  short  rest,  we  made  hasty  arrangements  for  encamping  in 
the  haraza — open  as  usual  to  the  dreaded  evening  wind — 
within  the  homa  or  palisade  of  stakes.  The  cold  that  night 
was  almost  Arctic,  and  we  wrapped  ourselves  in  all  the  blankets 
we  could  find.  In  the  early  dawn,  the  zealous  akida  came 
in  a  great  hurry,  to  conduct  us  to  the  Makua  village  of  Niuchi, 
where  the  concluding  ceremony  of  the  girls'  unyago  was  fixed 
for  that  day,  and  where  I  was  sure  to  see  and  hear  much 
that  was  new.  An  hour  later,  our  party,  this  time  including 
my  mule^  had  already  wound  its  way  through  a  long  stretch 
of  primaeval  Makonde  bush.  It  proved  impossible  to  ride, 
however — the  path,  bordered  by  thick,  thorny  scrub,  being 
never  two  feet  wide  in  the  most  frequented  parts.  We  sud- 
denly walked  out  of  the  thickest  bush  on  to  a  small  open  space 
surrounded  by  houses,  and  perceived  with  some  astonishment 
a  large  crowd  of  strange-looking  female  figures,  who  were 
staring  at  us,  struck  dumb  with  terror.  I  saw  at  once  that, 
here,  too,  it  would  be  well  to  keep  as  much  as  possible  in  the 

230 


THE  VILLAGE  GREEN  AT  NIUCHI 


231 


background,  and  disappeared  with  my  men  and  all  the  apparatus 
behind  the  nearest  hut.  From  this  coign  of  vantage,  I  was 
able  to  watch  undisturbed  a  whole  series  of  performances 
which  few  if  any  travellers,  probably,  have  seen  in  exactly 
the  form  they  here  assumed. 


OUR  CAMP  AT  NEWALA 

It  is  eight  in  the  morning ;  the  Makonde  bush,  which  almost 
closes  over  our  heads,  is  clad  in  the  freshest  green,  one  large 
tree  in  the  middle  of  the  hwalo  ^  and  a  few  others  of  equal 
proportions  rise  above  the  general  level  of  the  pori,  and  the 
low  Makonde  huts  stand  out  sharply  in  the  clear  morning  air. 
The  few  wom^en  whom  on  our  arrival  we  found  sweeping  the 
hwalo  with  bunches  of  green  twigs,  have  vanished  like  lightning 
in  the  crowd  surrounding  five  other  figures  dressed  in  gaudy 
cloths.  These  are  squatting  in  the  shadow  of  a  hut,  covering 
their  eyes  and  temples  with  their  hands,  and  staring  fixedly 
at  the  ground  through  their  fingers.  Then  a  shrill  sound  is 
heard,  and  five  or  six  women  are  seen  hurrying  with  grotesque 
jumps  across  the  open  space.    As  they  raise  the  traditional 

^  This  Nyanja  word,  here  used  for  convenience  sake,  means  the 
"  village  green,"  or  "  forum,"  where  the  affairs  of  the  community  are 
discussed,  and  all  public  transactions  take  place. — [Tr.] 


232 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


cry  of  rejoicing,  ^  the  pelele,  here  of  truly  fabulous  dimensions, 
stands  up  straight  in  the  air,  while  the  tongue,  stretched  out  under 
it,  vibrates  rapidly  to  and  fro  in  the  manner  indispensable  to 

the  correct  production 
of  the  sound.  The  first 
six  are  soon  followed  by 
a  dozen  other  women, 
among  whom  one  voice 
sings : — "A  namanduta , 
anamandiita,  mwaii- 
angu  mwanagwe" 
("  They  go  away,  they 
go  away,  my  dear 
child,") — the  rest  re- 
peating the  line  in 
chorus.  The  song  is 
accompanied  by  accu- 
rately-rhythmical 
hand  clapping,  as  the 
dancers  move  in  short 
tripping  steps  back- 
ward and  forward. 
"  Surely  a  barbaric 
lament  over  a  part- 
ing," I  reflect,  on 
hearing  Sefu's  rapid 
translation,  but  al- 
ready a  new  song  is 
heard  : — 
"  Namahihio  achiknta 

THE  AUTHOR  IN   WINTER  COSTUME  AT  NEWALA     kumaWeVU      (     The  OWl 

cries  in  the  gardens  "). 
This,  too,  is  repeated  for  some  time,  then  once  more,  all 


1  This  action  is  called  ku  luluta  both  in  Yao  and  in  Nyanja.  The 
Rev.  H.  B.  Barnes  explains  the  word,  in  the  latter  language,  as  "  to  say 
lu-lu-lu-lu  indefinitely.  The  women  do  this  as  a  sign  of  rejoicing  ;  the 
sound  is  produced  by  moving  the  tongue  quickly  from  side  to  side  with 
the  mouth  a  little  open,  and  very  often  the  hand  is  alternately  clapped 
to  the  lips  and  taken  away  rapidly."  The  cry  itself  is  called  in  Nyanja 
ntungululu.  It  seems  to  be  universal  (under  various  names)  among 
African  women. — [Tr.] 


"THE  BASKET  OF  KULIWILE  " 


233 


crowd  round  the  five  bundles  of  cloth.  Five  elderly  women 
now  step  forward  out  of  the  throng  and  decorate  the  heads 
of  their  pupils — for  such  are  the  gaudily-attired  beings — with 
bunches  of  millet.  The  latter  now  rise,  and  take  up  their 
position  in  Indian  file,  each  with  her  hands  on  the  shoulders 
of  the  one  before  her.  The  drums  strike  up — old  and  young 
together  swaying  with  skilled  vibration  in  the  danse  du  ventre. 

"  Chihakatu  cha  Kuliwile  nandu  kuhuma  nchere."  ("  The 
chihakatu  (small  flat  basket)  of  Liwile  is  carried  out  of  the 
house  early.")  This  is  the  song  now  chanted  as  before  by 
solo  and  chorus.  By  the  chihakatu  is  probably  meant  the 
decoration  of  millet-heads — the  natives  are  fond  of  symbolical 
expressions. 

This  song  in  its  turn  comes  to  an  end  ;  the  ranks  of  the 
dancers  break  up  and  the  women  hasten  in  all  directions, 
coming  back  to  lay  further  supplies  of  millet,  manioc,  cloth,  etc., 
at  the  feet  of  the  five  instructresses.  These,  meanwhile,  have 
been  preparing  for  the  next  step.  An  egg  is  broken,  a  little 
of  the  yolk  is  rubbed  on  the  forehead  of  each  girl  and  the 
rest  mixed  with  castor  oil  and  used  to  anoint  the  girls  on 
chest  and  back.  This  is  the  sign  that  they  have  reached 
maturity,  and  that  the  unyago  is  over.  The  first  part  of  the 
festival  is  concluded  by  the  presentation  of  more  new  cloth 
to  the  girls. 

Sefu  now  points  out  to  me  a  stick  planted  in  the  ground, 
and  tells  me  that  medicines  belonging  to  the  unyago  have 
been  buried  under  it.  He  also  says  that  some  months  ago, 
a  large  pot  of  water  was  buried  at  another  spot  in  the  hwalo  ; 
this  was  also   "  medicine." 

While  I  am  listening  to  this  explanation,  the  women  have 
once  more  taken  their  places.  With  a  ntungululu  which, 
even  at  the  distance  at  which  we  are  standing,  is  almost 
enough  to  break  the  drums  of  our  ears,  all  the  arms  fly  up  with 
a  jerk,  then  down  again,  and  the  performers  begin  to  clap 
their  hands  with  a  perfection  of  rhythm  and  uniformity  of 
action  seemingly  peculiar  to  the  dwellers  on  the  shores  of  the 
Indian  Ocean,  in  order  to  accompany  the  following  song  : — 

"  Kanole  wahuma  kwetu  likundasi  kuyadika  kuyedya 
ingombe." 

The  meaning  is  something  like  this  :  "  Just  look  at  that  girl  ; 


234 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


she  has  borrowed  a  bead  girdle,  and  is  now  trying  to  wear  it 
gracefully  and  becomingly." 

Women  are  very  much  alike  all  the  world  over,  I  mutter 
to  myself,  asSefu  explains  this — full,  on  the  one  hand,  of  vanity, 
on  the  other,  of  spite.  The  song  refers  to  a  poor  girl  appearing 
in  borrowed  finery,  who  is  satirized  by  her  companions.  In 
the  next  song  it  is  my  turn  to  furnish  the  moral. 

"  Ignole  yangala  yangala  meme  rntuleke  tuwakuhiyoloka." 

The  sense  appears  to  be  about  the  following  : — 

"  You  are  here  assembled  (for  the  unyago),  rejoice  and  be 
merry.  \\q  who  have  come  here,  we  do  not  want  to  play 
with  you,  only  to  look  on." 

If  Sefu  is  right,  as  there  is  every  reason  to  suppose, 
these  words  are  to  be  understood  as  spoken  by  myself,  they 
are  either  dictated  by  my  own  delicacy  of  feeling  :  "I  have  no 
wish  to  intrude  " — or  they  are  intended  as  a  captatio  benev- 
olentiae  :  "  Please  stay  at  a  distance,  white  man,  or  we  shall 
be  afraid  !  " 

In  spite  of  my  discreet  attitude,  the  performers  do  not 
seem  to  feel  quite  easy,  for  they  now  sing  till  they  grow  tired  : — 

"  Nidoha  ho,  nidoha  ho  "  ("  It  is  difficult,  it  is  difficult, 
truly.") 

This  is  followed  by  a  long  pause. 

The  second  division  of  the  programme  goes  on  to  repeat 
part  of  the  first.  Still  more  completely  mufiled  in  their 
brightly-coloured  cloths,  so  that  neither  face  nor  arms  are  to 
be  seen,  the  five  girls  come  forward  as  before,  and  march  round 
to  the  right,  the  rest  of  the  company  following  them  in  the 
same  order  as  previously.  Now  the  drums,  which  in  the  mean- 
time have  been  tuned  afresh  over  a  tremendous  fire,  strike 
up  again,  and  the  chorus  starts  :  "  Chihakatu  cha  Kuliwile," 
etc.,  with  dance  as  before.  This  lasts  fully  half-an-hour,  and 
then  the  long  file  breaks  up  ;  the  oldest  of  the  instructresses 
comes  forward  into  the  open  space  in  front  of  the  crowd, 
puts  on  a  critical  expression,  and  waits  for  what  is  about  to 
happen.  This  is  not  long  in  showing  itself.  Like  a  gorgeous 
butterfly,  one  of  the  coloured  cahco  bundles  separates  itself 
from  the  mass,  and  trips  gracefully  before  the  old  woman, 
while  the  chorus  bursts  into  song  : — 

"  Nande  e  e,  nande  e  e." 


DANCE  OF  THE  MUMMERS 


235 


The  astonished  white  man,  looking  on,  can  only  see  clearly 
the  head  and  feet  of  the  bundle,  which  are  comparatively  at 
rest — ever\'thing  between  these  extremities  being  an  undistin- 
guishable  blur.  On  boldly  approaching,  I  make  out  that  the 
gu-1  is  vibrating  her  waist  and  hips,  throwing  herself  to  and 
fro  with  such  velocity  that  the  eye  cannot  follow  the  lines  of 
her  figure.  The  performer  retires  after  a  time,  and  the  others 
follow,  each  in  her  turn,  receiving  praise  or  censure  from  the 
high  authorities  convoked  for  the  occasion.  But  not  even 
Sefu  can  tell  me  what  the  words  of  the  song  mean. 

The  third  part  follows.  As  full  of  expectant  curiosity  as 
myself,  the  five  young  girls  certified  as  having  arrived  at 
maturity  are  now  gazing  at  the  arena.  They  have  freed  them- 
selves from  their  wrappings,  and  seem  to  feel  quite  at  home, 
with  their  mothers  and  aunts  all  standing  round  them.  Then, 
with  a  quick,  tripping  step,  another  bundle  of  cloth  comes  out 
of  the  bush,  followed  by  a  second,  and,  after  a  short  interval 
by  a  third  and  fourth.  The  four  masks — for  such,  when  they 
turn  round,  they  are  seen  to  be — stand  up  two  and  two,  each 
pair  facing  the  other,  and  begin  the  same  series  of  movements 
which  I  had  already  watched  at  Chingulungulu,  comprising  the 
most  varied  manoeuvres  with  arms  and  legs,  contortions  of  the 
body  above  the  waist,  quivering  vibrations  of  the  region  below 
the  waist.  In  short,  everything  is  African,  quite  authentic 
and  primitive.  I  had  seen  all  these  evolutions  before,  but 
was  all  the  more  struck  with  the  whole  get-up  of  these  strange 
figures.  Makonde  masks  are  now  to  be  found  in  the  most 
important  ethnographic  mjjseums,  but  no  one,  it  appears, 
has  ever  seen  them  in  use — or,  if  so,  they  have  not  been 
described.  The  masks  are  of  wood,  two  of  them  representing 
men,  and  two  women.  This  is  evident  a  hundred  paces  off, 
from  the  prominence  given  to  the  pelele,  whose  white  stands 
out  with  great  effect  from  the  rigid  black  surface.  The 
costume  of  the  male  and  female  figures  is  in  other  respects 
alike,  following  the  principle  of  letting  no  part  of  the  human 
form  be  seen — everything  is  swathed  in  cloth,  from  the  closely- 
wrapped  neck  to  the  tips  of  the  fingers  and  toes.  This  excessive 
amount  of  covering  indicates  the  aim  of  the  whole — the  masks 
are  intended  to  terrify.  It  is  young  men  who  are  thus  disguised  ; 
they  do  not  wish  to  be  recognized,  and  are  supposed  to  give 


236 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


the  girls  a  good  fright  before  their  entrance  on  adult  life.  The 
masks  themselves  in  the  first  instance  serve  this  purpose  in  a 
general  way,  but  their  effect  is  still  further  heightened  by  making 
them  represent  well-known  bugbears  :  portraits  of  famous  and 
much  dreaded  warriors  or  robbers,  heads  of  monstrous 
beasts,    or,    lastly,   shetani — the    devil.  ^      This  personage 


appears  with  long  horns  and  a  large  beard,  and  is  really  terrible 
to  behold. 

While  the  four  masks  are  still  moving  about  the  arena — 
sometimes  all  together  facing  each  other,  sometimes  separating 
and  dancing  round  in  a  circle  with  all  sorts  of  gambols — a  new 
figure  appears  on  the  stage.  A  tapping  sound  is  heard  as  it 
jerks  its  way  forward — uncanny,  gigantic  ;  a  huge  length  of 
cloth  flutters  in  the  morning  breeze  ;  long,  spectral  arms, 
draped  with  cloth  so  as  to  look  like  wings,  beat  the  air  like 
the  sails  of  a  windmill  ;  a  rigid  face  grins  at  us  like  a  death's 
head  ;  and  the  whole  is  supported  on  poles,  a  yard  or  more 
in  length,  like  fleshless  legs.  The  little  girls  are  now  really 
frightened,  and  even  my  bodyguard  seem  to  feel  somewhat 
creepy.  The  European  investigator  cannot  allow  himself  to 
give  way  to  such  sensations  :  he  has  to  gaze,  to  observe,  and  to 
snapshot. 

The  use  of  stilts  is  not  very  common  in  any  part  of  the 

world.    Except  in  Europe  they  are,  so  far  as  I  know,  only 

1  Surely  this  name,  if  not  the  figure  itself,  must  be  of  Muslim 
origin  ? — [Tr.] 


MAKOXDE  MASKS 


THE  STILT-DANCER 


237 


used  in  the  culture-area  of  Eastern  Asia,  and  (curiously  enough) 
in  the  Marquesas  Islands  (Eastern  Pacific),  and  in  some  parts 
of  the  West  Coast  of  Africa.  Under  these  circumstances, 
I  cannot  at  present  suggest  any  explanation  of  their  presence 
on  the  isolated  Makonde  plateau.  Have  they  been  intro- 
duced ?  and,  if  so,  from  whence  ?  Or  are  they  a  survival  of 
very  ancient  usages  once  prevalent  from  Cape  Lopez,  in  the 
west  to  this  spot  in  the  east,  preserved  at  the  two  extremities 
of  the  area,  while  the  intervening  tribes  advanced  beyond  the 
old  dancing-appliances  ?  My  mind  involuntarily  occupies 
itself  with  such  questions,  though, 
properly  speaking,  this  is  not  the  time 
for  them,  as  there  are  still  many  things 
to  see. 

That  the  stilt-dancer's  intention  is 
to  terrify,  is  evident  from  his  move- 
ments, quite  apart  from  his  disguise. 
In  a  few  gigantic  strides  he  has  reached 
the  other  side  of  the  fairly  spacious 
arena,  and  drives  the  natives  squatting 
there  back  in  headlong  flight ;  for  it 
looks  as  if  the  monster  were  about  to 
catch  them,  or  tread  them  underfoot. 
But  it  has  already  turned  away,  and 
is  stalking  up  to  the  five  novices  at 
the  other  end  :  they,  and  others  near 
them,  turn  away  shrieking.  Now  he  comes  within  range  of 
my  camera — a  click  of  the  shutter,  and  I  have  him  safe.  I 
could  almost  have  imagined  that  I  saw  the  man's  face  of  con- 
sternation behind  his  mask — he  stopped  with  such  a  start, 
hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  strode  swiftly  away. 

This  dancing  on  stilts  can  scarcely  be  a  pleasure.  The 
man  is  now  leaning,  tired  out,  against  the  roof  of  one  of  the 
huts,  and  looks  on  while  the  four  masks  come  forward  again 
to  take  part  in  the  dance.  But  the  proceedings  seem  inchned 
to  hang  fire — the  sun  has  by  this  time  climbed  to  the  zenith, 
and  the  stifling  heat  weighs  us  all  down.  A  great  many  of  the 
women  taking  part  in  the  ceremony  have  already  dispersed, 
and  those  still  present  are  visibly  longing  for  the  piles  of 
ugali  at  home.    I  take  down  the  apparatus  and  give  the  word 


MAKOXDE  STILT-DANCER. 
FROM  A  DRAWING  BY  OMARI, 
A  MBONDEI 


238 


NATIVE  LIFE  IX  EAST  AFRICA 


THE  XyOKOllE   DAN'CE  AT  XEWALA 


to  start,  and  once  more  we  are  forcing  our  way  through  the 
thorny  thickets  of  the  Makonde  bush  towards  Newala. 

The  indefatigable  Sefu  only  allowed  me  one  day  in  which 
to  digest  the  impressions  of  Xiuchi,  before  announcing  another 
important  expedition.  Sefu  lives  only  some  thirty  or  forty 
yards  away  from  us,  in  a  house  built  Coast-fashion.  He  is 
not,  like  Xakaam  and  I\Iatola.  a  native  of  the  country,  but 
has  been  transferred  here  from  the  coast  as  an  official  of 
the  German  Administration,  while  the  other  two  might  be 
compared  with  large  landowners  placed  in  a  similar  position 
on  account  of  their  local  standing  and  influence  among 
the  people.  He  has  rather  more  notion  of  comfort  than  is 
usual  among  his  congeners,  for  he  has  had  very  neat  bamboo 
seats — some  even  with  backs  to  them,  an  unheard  of  luxur}' 
in  this  region — put  up  in  his  haraza,  where  he  holds  shauris 
and  also  receives,  with  great  dignity,  the  leaders  of  passing 
caravans.  Sefu  spends  all  his  spare  minutes  with  us ;  he 
arrives  first  thing  in  the  morning,  and  shivers  through  the 
evening  with  us  in  that  temple  of  the  winds  which  goes  by  the 
name  of  the  rest-house,  and  which  we  shall  be  compelled  to 


THE  MAKONDE  BUSH 


239 


dose  in  with  a  wall  in  order  to  get  some  protection  against  the 
evening  gales. 

Sefu,  then,  had  a  grand  plan  to  propose.  This  time,  he 
said,  he  could  show  us  a  ceremony  of  the  Wamatambwe  at 
the  village  of  Mangupa.  It  was  again  a  girls'  chipntu,  that 
is,  the  conclusion  of  the  first  course  of  instruction  which  these 
children  of  between  eight  and  eleven  had  been  going  through 
for  some  months  in  a  special  hut.  But  the  ]\Iatambwe  proce- 
dure is  in  some  points  different  from  that  of  the  Yaos  and  the 
Makua  ;  and,  also,  it  was  not  far.  If  we  started  next  morning 
at  7.30,  we  should  be  in  time  to  see  the  beginning  after  a 
walk  of  an  hour  and  a  half. 

I  was  able  to  form  a  slight  idea  of  the  famous  Makonde 
bush  on  the  expedition  to  Xiuchi — but  it  was  very  far  from 
being  an  adequate  one.  Much  has  been  written  about  this 
form  of  vegetation,  but  I  believe  the  theme  is  inexhaustible. 
Not  that  this  bush  is  remarkable  for  aesthetic  charms,  for 
beautiful  scenery,  or  abundance  and  variety  of  vegetation.  It 
is  a  perfectly  uniform,  compact  mass  of  thin  stems,  branches, 
leaves  and  tendrils.  This  is  the  unpleasant  part  of  it  ;  this 
indescribably  thick  tangle  lets  no  one  pass  unless  he  has 
first  cut  his  painful  and  toilsome  way  with  axe  and  bill-hook. 
Our  native  troops  have  gone  through  unspeakable  sufferings 
in  this  way,  in  the  last  ten  years  alone,  especially  in  the  war 
against  Machemba.  Things  have  been  made  easier  for  us — 
the  victorious  struggle  against  the  formerly  unreliable  and 
often  rebellious  tribes  of  the  south  has  led  to  the  wise  measure 
of  connecting  every  place  of  the  slightest  importance  with 
all  other  settlements  by  means  of  roads  deserving  the  name 
of  harahara,  i.e.,  beaten  road,  in  the  most  literal  sense  of  the 
term.  This  road  is  so  broad  that  a  column  could  at  need 
march  along  it  four  abreast  ;  though  in  some  places  indeed  it  is 
very  much  overgrown. 

We  took  the  main  road  leading  to  Xkunya,  but  very  soon 
turned  off  to  the  right,  getting  deeper  and  deeper  into  the 
bush.  Riding  soon  became  impossible  ;  in  fact,  every  member 
of  the  expedition  was  engaged  in  a  very  cautious  struggle 
with  the  upupu.  Nils  Knudsen  warned  me  against  this 
agreeable  plant  soon  after  our  arrival  at  Newala,  so  I  have 
escaped  an  experience  which  many  a  new-comer  will  not 


240 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


forget  in  a  hurry.  The  upupu  ^  is  a  kind  of  bean  bearing  dark 
green  pods,  which,  if  touched,  cause  an  unbearable  irritation  in 
the  skin.  Rubbing  or  scratching  only  brings  the  victim  nearer 
to  madness.  Washing  is  quite  useless — the  only  effectual 
remedy  is  wood  ashes,  which,  if  mixed  with  water  and  plastered 
on  the  skin,  draw  out  the  minute  poison-crystals  in  a  short 
time.  As  in  many  other  cases,  the  cure  is  easily  applied  if 
one  only  know^s  it. 

Punctually  at  nine,  we  are  standing  before  a  hut  similar 
to  the  one  already  described,  only  that  the  likuku,  as  it  is  here 
called,  is  double — two  low,  round  structures,  standing  side 
by  side.  The  ceremony  is  just  about  to  begin,  Sefu  says. 
I  am  hard-hearted  and  barbarous  enough  to  send  the  headman 
of  the  place — who  has  one  foot  ulcerated  in  the  most  horrible 
way  and  consequently  poisons  the  atmosphere  for  some  distance 
around  him,  but  in  spite  of  this  feels  that  he  ought  to  do  the 
honours  of  his  village — half  a  mile  away  to  windward,  before 
setting  up  my  camera  by  the  side  of  a  bush,  where  I  await 
the  progress  of  events. 

For  some  time  we  hear  nothing  but  the  familiar  lu-lu-lu- 
ing  of  the  women  in  all  keys,  soprano  and  alto,  piano  and 
fortissimo,  as  if  the  company,  standing  in  a  dense  crowd  behind 
the  double  house,  wished  to  practise  a  little  before  making 
their  appearance.  Meanwhile,  they  are  growing  more  and 
more  shiny — they  are  anointing  themselves  with  castor-oil 
till  they  drip  with  it.  They  are  also  wearing  peleles  of  a  size 
I  have  never  yet  seen.  Suddenly,  the  scene  changes — seven 
women  come  forward  out  of  the  crowd  carrying  a  long  pole, 
and  walk  quickly  towards  the  open  space  on  the  left  of  the 
likuku.  As  they  approach  we  see  that  the  pole  is  really  a 
huge  flag-staff — a  whole  length  of  brand-new  coloured  cotton 
print  hangs  down  it  from  one  end  to  the  other.    "  Nini  hii  ?  " 

What  is  this  ?  ")  I  ask  Sefu.  It  is  the  fee  for  the  instruc- 
tresses, among  whom  it  will  soon  be  divided,  but  before  being 
cut  up,  it  is  to  be  shown  in  all  its  beauty  to  the  people. 

From  the  moment  of  their  first  coming  forward,  the  seven 
women  have  been  chanting  :  "  Watata  wadihauye  akalumhane 
kundeka  unguwanguwe."  Sefu  says  that  this  means  : — "  My 
father  has  treated  me  badly — he  gave  me  a  bad  husband, 
1  Called  in  ChingSLnja.  chiiedzi  ;  it  is  the  plant  known  as  "cowage." — [Tr.] 


A  WITCHES'  SABBATH 


241 


who  ran  away  from  me,  and  now  I  am  left  alone."  I  cannot 
make  out  what  this  song  has  to  do  with  the  chiputu,  but 
have  no  time  for  speculation  on  the  subject,  for  the  whole 
company  is  beginning  to  enact  a  kind  of  "  Walpurgisnacht  !  " 
At  least,  should  an  African  Goethe  attempt  to  depict  a  festival 
on  the  heights  of  Kilimanjaro  analogous  to  the  famous  scene 
in  Faust,  he  would  probably  do  it  on  the  lines  of  what  we 
see  before  us.  Pigs,  broomsticks,  and  other  traditional 
paraphernalia  of  the  venerable  profession  are  here  entirely 
wanting,  but  the  illusion  is  more  than  sufficiently  maintained 
by  the  white  disc  in  the  upper  lip,  the  huge  stud  in  the  nose  ; 
the  combs  stuck  in  the  woolly  hair,  the  heavy  bangles  on  arms 
and  ankles,  and,  finally,  the  unhappy  baby  on  the  back  of 
every  young  witch,  and,  strangely  enough,  on  those  of  a  good 
many  elderly  ones  as  well.  Clapping  their  hands,  and  uttering 
their  shrill,  vibrating  cry,  the  whole  troop  run,  jump,  and  dance 
wildly  in  and  out  till  the  spectator's  senses  are  completely 
bewildered. 

Suddenly,  the  noise  ceases,  and  the  figures  of  the  five 
novices,  closely  huddled  together,  stooping  low,  swathed  in 
new,  gaudy  cloths  which  cover  them  all  over,  appear  from 
the  "  wings  "  in  the  same  way  as  their  predecessors.  The 
silence  lasts  till  they  have  taken  their  places  in  the  arena,  but 
then  a  din  breaks  loose  to  wh'ch  what  I  have  described  as 
the  "  Walpurgisnacht  "  was  merely  a  gentle  murmur,  for  in 
addition  to  the  voices  we  have  now  the  roll  and  thunder  of 
the  half-dozen  drums  forming  the  inevitable  band.  Meanwhile, 
the  chaos  has  hastily  arranged  itself  into  a  large  circle,  in  the 
centre  of  which  the  five  bundles,  now  quite  a  familiar  sight  to 
me,  stand  in  the  same  stooping  posture  as  at  Niuchi.  The 
drums  have  by  this  time  moderated  their  pace  and  volume, 
and  the  women  glide  and  shuffle  round  the  ring  to  the  accus- 
tomed rhythm.  Finally,  the  performers  change  places  as  on 
the  previous  occasion,  the  instructress  comes  forward,  the  rest  of 
the  women  being  now  merely  accessories,  and  the  novices 
proceed  to  show  their  proficiency  in  the  dance  before  alluded 
to.  This  trial  being  over,  it  seems  as  if  the  girls  were  receiving 
congratulations,  and  then  the  whole  mass  moves  towards 
the  double  hut,  the  five  girls  walking  backwards.  All  vanish 
into  the  dusk  of  the  interior,  but  while  the  grown-up  women 


242 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


remain  there,  the  girls  re-appear  after  a  few  minutes'  interval, 
and,  walking  in  Indian  file,  a  short  distance  apart,  they  cross 
the  arena, — not  backwards  this  time,  but  m  the  ordinary- 
way — and  silently  vanish  into  the  thick  bush. 

The  exit  of  the  five  girls  seems  to  mark  the  official  close  of 
the  ceremony,  as  the  women  do  not  appear  again.  The 
lords  of  creation,  however,  now  come  into  action,  and  man 
after  man,  as  if  drawn  by  a  magnet,  moves  towards  one  of  the 
two  doors  and  enters,  while  no  one  is  seen  to  come  out  again. 
This  interests  me,  and  approaching  the  entrance  of  the  hut, 
to  discover  the  cause  of  this  singular  phenomenon,  I  find  that 
preparations  are  being  made  for  a  beer-drinking  on  a  large 
scale  : — the  ground  inside  the  hut  is  occupied  by  rows  on  rows 
of  huge  pombe-jars,  waiting  to  fulfil  the  object  of  their  being. 
We  have  not  been  invited  to  the  feast — an  omission  due,  we 
may  be  certain,  not  to  any  want  of  hospitality,  but  probably 
to  timidity,  and  a  feeling  that  the  admission  of  a  stranger  to 
a  share  in  their  tribal  mysteries  is  something  unfitting.  We 
should  have  liked  to  be  asked,  all  the  same. 


MAKOXDE  WOMEN   GOING  TO  DRAW  WATER. 
FROM  A  DRAWING  BY  PESA  MBILI 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  HARVEST  OF  KNOWLEDGE 
Xewala,  towards  the  end  of  September,  1906. 

Having  witnessed — thanks  to  Sefu,  and  to  a  favourable  con- 
juncture of  circumstances — the  festive  ceremonies  of  the 
unyago,  I  have  been  trying  to  study  the  theory  and  the  details 
of  the  whole  process  of  initiation  for  both  sexes.  I  find  this 
extremely  difficult.  It  is  true  that  I  have  gradually  obtained 
a  complete  view  of  the  boys'  unyago,  though  it  cost  me  endless 
trouble  to  ascertain  all  the  rules  ;  but  the  other  part  of  the 
problem  seems  to  be  absolutely  bewitched,  so  many  accu- 
mulated obstacles  oppose  themselves  to  its  solution.  Under 
other  circumstances,  this  might  drive  the  most  patient  inquirer 
to  despair  ;  but  on  the  Makonde  plateau,  happily,  there  is  no 
time  for  despair,  for  with  this  question  are  associated  a  hundred 
others,  not  less  interesting  and  important,  and  therefore 
demanding  an  answer  with  equal  insistency. 

But  I  see  that  I  must  arrange  the  account  of  my  inquiries 
and  their  principal  results  in  a  systematic  way  in  order  to 
present  them  in  a  form  which  can  be  satisfactorily  grasped 
by  the  reader. 

Taken  all  round,  the  whole  environment  of  Newala  is  such  as 
to  offer  a  sort  of  resistance  to  every  kind  of  intense  intellectual 
work.  Not  that  we  suffer  from  the  heat  here,  at  a  height  of 
about  2,460  feet  above  sea-level,  to  the  same  degree  as  we  did 
in  the  plain,  which  had  gradually  become  something  like  a 

243 


244 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


baker's  oven.  It  is  true  that  the  temperature  of  about  80°  F. 
indicated  by  the  maximum  thermometer  in  our  haraza  during 
the  early  hours  of  the  afternoon,  causes  the  same  severe  head- 
ache as  the  86°  F.  and  over  of  the  plain ;  but,  on  the  one  hand, 
one  gets  used  to  having  one's  work  suspended  by  the  heat,  and, 
on  the  other,  the  natives  generally  sleep  through  the  hottest 
part  of  the  day,  so  that  I  lose  nothing  by  inactivity  at  that 
time.  Much  more  trying  is  the  loss  of  time  resulting  from  the 
cumulative  effect  of  a  series  of  other  circumstances,  which 
may  seem  almost  comical  to  those  not  immediately  concerned, 
and  even  occasionally  prove  amusing  to  ourselves,  but  which 
are  serious  hindrances  none  the  less. 

In  the  hrst  place,  we  have  the  daily  changes  of  temperature. 
In  the  grey  dawn,  wrapped  up  warmly  in  two  blankets,  I  hear 
heavy  drops  falling  on  the  tent-roof,  think  half-consciously, 
that  it  is  raining,  and  doze  off  again,  soon  to  be  awakened  by 
sounds  of  creaking  and  groaning  which  make  me  sit  up  with 
a  start.  On  opening  my  eyes  I  see  the  ropes  so  tightly 
stretched  that  the  tough  ashen  poles  are  bent  over  almost 
into  a  half-circle.  With  an  imprecation  on  the  careless  sentinel, 
I  jump  from  beneath  my  mosquito-net,  call  him  up  along  with 
the  two  previously  on  duty,  and  make  them  lengthen  the  ropes 
as  a  punishment.  By  the  time  this  is  accomplished,  not 
without  severe  exertion,  it  is  quite  light,  and  I  do  not  find  it 
worth  while  to  go  to  sleep  again.  Now  comes  the  pleasantest 
event  of  the  day — the  morning  bath  ;  at  six  a.m.  the  tempera- 
ture is  between  57°  and  58°,  perfectly  Arctic  for  Africa.  The 
long  row  of  gourds  treated  the  day  before  with  alum  contain 
water  which  feels  ice-cold  ;  and  the  bath  and  the  rub  down 
afterwards,  are  truly  delicious.  Kibwana,  in  his  capacity  of 
valet,  has  long  ago  become  accustomed  to  my  white  skin  ; 
but  there  are  plenty  of  eyes  staring  through  the  gaps  in  the 
homa  palisade  or  the  headman's  fence,  in  astonished  enjoy- 
ment of  this  daily  spectacle.  When  I  get  out,  I  find  there  is 
not  a  vestige  of  rain — it  was  only  the  heavy  morning  dew, 
dripping  from  the  thick-foliaged  mango-trees  under  which  our 
tents  are  pitched.  The  sun  is  as  yet  invisible  ;  Newala  is 
shrouded  in  a  thick  mist — not  even  the  lofty  trees  in  the 
burying-ground  outside  the  gateway  being  recognizable  in  this 
rolling  sea  of  white.    Instinctively,  Knudsen  and  I  put  on  the 


HEMEDI  MARANGA 


245 


winter  clothes  already  described,  and  I  add  a  muffler  in  the 
shape  of  a  folded  handkerchief,  while  he  buttons  his  overcoat 
up  to  his  chin. 

This  has  brought  us  to  about  half-past  six  ;  and,  quite  ready 
for  work,  I  leave  the  tent  at  the  moment  when  the  soldiers 
are  reporting  for  the  two  hours'  daily  drill,  which  I  introduced 
at  Masasi,  to  keep  them  from  becoming  confirmed  loafers. 
Hemedi  Maranga  comes  up  to  me  to  make  his  report.  This 


smart  fellow  has  already  improved  the  appearance  of  the 
company  ;  he  is  a  born  soldier,  while  his  predecessor,  Saleh, 
was  more  of  a  hunter.  Saleh  has  been  sent  by  the  District 
Commissioner  to  the  Central  Lukuledi  Valley  to  get  rid  of 
the  lions  which  are  still  decimating  the  unhappy  inhabitants, 
numerous  lives  having  been  lost  even  since  we  passed  through 
in  July.    All  success  to  him  in  his  perilous  task  ! 

While  I  am  amusing  myself  with  my  breakfast —cocoa  made 
very  thick,  and  the  usual  large  omelette  with  bananas — the 
corporal  and  his  division  have  marched  out  into  the  pori,  to 
practise  bush-fighting  or  go  through  their  drill.  "  Legt  an  f 
Feuer  !  Geladcn  !  "    The  word  of  command,  strange  enough 


TWO  NEWALA  SAVANTS 


246  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


in  the  mouth  of  a  native,  rings  out  from  a  distance  as  clearly 
and  sharply  as  if  spoken  by  the  smartest  of  German  non- 
commissioned officers.  But  I  have  no  time  to  listen  to  this 
reminder  of  far-off  home  scenes,  for  already  my  wise  elders  are 
arriving  with  the  slow,  dignified  pace  of  the  old  native.  It 
was  agreed  yesterday  that  they  should  be  here  by  seven.  This 
may  sound  surprising,  considering  that  the  natives  have  neither 
clocks  nor  watches,  and  would  be  unable  to  read  them  if  they 
had ;  but  it  was  arrived  at  in  the  following  way.  When  we 
stopped  work  at  sunset  yesterday,  all,  white  and  black  alike, 
too  tired  to  sit  up  any  longer,  I  said  to  the  fifteen  old  men, 
getting  Sefu  to  interpret  my  words  into  Kimakua  and  Kima- 
konde  :  "  You  are  to  come  again  to-morrow,  saa  "  (at  the 
hour  of),  and  completed  my  sentence  by  stretching  out  my 
arm  to  the  east  at  an  angle  of  15°  with  the  horizon.  The  men 
watched  me  attentively.  In  order  to  make  sure,  I  had  them 
asked  whether  they  understood,  and  each  forthwith  raised 
one  arm  and  held  it  at  exactly  the  same  angle.  Fifteen  degrees 
is  the  height  reached  by  the  sun  an  hour  after  rising,  and 
therefore  equivalent  to  seven  o'clock  ;  if  I  want  them  at  a 
later  hour,  I  enlarge  the  angle  accordingly.  This  is  no  inven- 
tion of  mine,  but  the  universal  custom  of  the  country  ;  and 
the  people  can  indicate  accurately  the  relative  position  of  the 
sun  at  periods  separated  by  the  smallest  intervals  of  time. 

A  couple  of  hours  have  sped  quickly  enough,  filled  up  with 
questions  and  answers  relating  to  various  points  of  custom 
and  tradition,  and  the  old  gentlemen  are  still  squatting  round 
me  in  a  semicircle,  on  a  huge  mat.  On  the  first  day  of  our 
work  in  common,  one  of  them  was  so  far  from  putting  any 
restraint  on  himself  as  to  send  a  jet  of  tobacco-juice,  sailor- 
fashion,  through  his  teeth  just  in  front  of  my  feet.  "  Mshenzi  !  " 
("  You  savage  !  ")  I  growled,  half  involuntarily,  and  since  then 
I  have  had  no  occasion  to  complain  of  the  smallest  breach  of 
good  manners.  It  is  true  that  they  bring  with  them  a  strong 
effiuvium  of  perspiration  and  rancid  oil,  so  that  I  feel  worse 
and  worse  as  the  hours  pass  ;  and  they  are  accompanied  by  a 
cloud  of  flies,  which  go  on  doing  their  level  best  to  transfer  to 
the  white  stranger  the  ophthalmic  affections  from  which  the 
natives  suffer  ;  but  otherwise  their  behaviour  is  deserving  of  all 
respect.    The  observation  which  I  have  made  in  all  places 


COLD  NIGHTS  AT  NEWALA 


247 


hitherto  visited,  that  these  savages  have  a  strong  natural  sense 
of  tact,  holds  good  here  also.  If  we  compare  their  behaviour 
with  that  of  certain  circles  and  strata  of  our  home  population, 
we  are  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  we  Europeans,  though 
we  imagine  ourselves  to  have  taken  a  long  lease  of  all  the 
culture  and  tact  on  earth,  are,  after  all,  not  very  much  more 
favourable  specimens  of  humanity. 

But  the  shed  has  all  this  time  been  growing  hotter,  and  the 
northern  style  of  clothing  is  no  longer  called  for.  Off  with  the 
heavy  boots,  then,  and  the  thick  woollen  stockings,  as  well  as 
the  warm  flannel  shirt,  waistcoat,  and  neckcloth,  to  be  replaced 
by  thin  tropical  garments  affording  free  passage  of  the  air. 
At  noon  the  khaki  coat  is  flung  into  a  corner,  and  a  thin  silk 
jacket  assumed  instead  of  it.  This  completes  the  negative 
process,  which  has  to  be  reversed  again  as  the  sun  declines. 
The  dreaded  evening  gale  of  Newala  sets  in  with  a  sharp,  icy 
squall,  and  Knudsen  and  I,  by  a  simultaneous  and  violent 
sneeze,  prove  that  our  chronic  catarrh,  though  latent  by  day, 
is  as  vigorous  as  ever.  There  is  no  help  for  it  ;  we  must  put 
on  again,  piece  by  piece,  our  whole  winter  stock,  and,  more- 
over, by  a  habit  which  has  now  become  an  instinct,  wrap 
ourselves  up  in  overcoats  when  the  gale,  now  arrived  at  its 
height,  whirls  clouds  of  dirt  and  dust  through  our  dwelling. 
In  the  course  of  the  four  weeks  we  have  spent  here,  we  have 
had  to  close  in  this  abode  more  and  more.  The  mats  originally 
put  up  to  protect  the  open  side  have  long  since  been  replaced 
by  a  solid  wall  of  thatch,  which  has  swallowed  up  one  panel 
after  another,  so  that  now  by  the  end  of  the  month  only  one 
large  window  remains  to  admit  light.  In  the  evening  the 
carriers  tie  a  large  tarpaulin  in  front  of  this  opening,  but  even 
this  complete  shutting  off  of  the  wind  does  not  make  the  place 
comfortable.  When,  about  ten,  I  have  finished  developing 
my  plates  and  come,  bathed  in  perspiration,  out  of  the  tent 
which  serves  me  for  a  dark-room  into  the  haraza,  I  find  my 
Norwegian  friend  a  shapeless  bundle,  wrapped  in  all  the 
available  blankets,  but  his  teeth  chattering  all  the  same. 
Each  of  us  then  makes  haste  to  creep  into  his  warm  tent. 
The  tents,  by  the  bye,  have  only  become  really  warm  since 
we  have  had  a  screen  of  millet-straw,  strengthened  by  strong 
stakes,  built  in  front  of  them  to  windward.    Before  this  was 


248 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


done,  they  were  in  danger  of  being  blown  over  every  night. 
These  are  the  daily  cares  of  clothing  and  lodging  :  their  amount 
is  not  excessive,  but  in  any  case  they  take  up  a  certain  fraction 
of  my  precious  time,  on  which  still  further  inroads  are  made  by 
the  necessary  provision  for  food  and  health. 

Next  to  the  bush,  the  greatest  peculiarity  of  the  ]\Iakonde 
Plateau  is  the  fact  that  its  surface  is  quite  waterless  ;  the  soil, 
down  to  a  considerable  depth,  consisting  of  a  loose  stratification 
of  sandy  loam  and  loamy  sand.  In  the  west  these  strata  belong 
to  the  upper  chalk  formation,  and  are  called  Makonde  beds,  in 
the  east  they  are  tertiary,  and  are  called  Mikindani  beds.  Both 
are  extraordinarily  pervious  to  water,  so  that  all  atmospheric 
moisture,  if  not  evaporated  or  retained  by  the  abundant 
vegetation,  rapidly  sinks  through  them  till  stopped  by  the 
impervious  strata — the  inclined  plane  of  the  Newala  sandstone 
or  the  primaeval  granite  core  (of  the  same  nature  as  the  insular 
mountains  yonder  in  the  Masasi  plain),  which  we  must  suppose 
to  exist  in  the  depths  of  the  Makonde  Plateau.  The  water, 
flowing  down  along  these  strata,  does  not,  of  course,  come  to 
the  surface  till  it  reaches  the  declivity  of  the  plateau,  which,  in 
contrast  with  the  upper  level,  is  a  region  abounding  even  to 
excess  in  springs  and  brooks. 

One  might  therefore  expect  to  find  the  plateau  itself  unin- 
habited, and  all  the  people  settled  at  its  edges.  That  is  the 
course  which  would  have  been  followed  by  Europeans  like 
ourselves  skilled  in  the  rationale  of  colonization.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  not  a  human  being  lives  below,  but  on  the  heights 
there  are  over  80,000  Makonde,  nearly  5,000  Wangoni, 
thousands  of  Wayao  and  Wamakua,  and  a — to  me — unknown 
number  of  Wamatambwe.  In  recent  times,  however,  the 
tendency  to  come  further  and  further  down  into  the  well- 
watered- lowlands,  has  been  gaining  ground.  This  has  been 
caused  by  the  cessation  of  the  Mafiti  raids  and  the  firm  rule  of 
the  German  Administration.  This  tendency,  however,  only 
affects  the  more  progressive  elements,  the  Yaos  and  Makuas, 
not  the  Makonde.  The  latter  follow  the  practice  which  has  been 
usual  with  them  from  time  immemorial.  So  soon  as  the  most 
necessary  work  has  been  done  in  house  and  garden,  father  and 
son,  or  mother  and  daughter  take  on  their  shoulders  a  pole, 
some  yard  and  a  half  or  two  yards  long,  to  each  end  of  which 


250 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


is  fastened  a  large  gourd,  or  perhaps  two.  They  hurry  along 
at  a  rapid  walk  to  the  edge  of  the  plateau,  from  w^hich  their 
hamlet  is  inconveniently  distant,  scramble  down  a  steep 
declivity  by  a  difficult  path,  remain  for  a  while  in  the  marshy 
bottom  and  return  with  their  load  up  the  almost  vertical  ascent 
of  several  hundred  yards.  At  last,  having  accomplished  the 
toilsome  climb,  they  draw  a  deep  breath,  and  walk,  or  rather 
trot,  back  to  their  village.  The  Makonde  are  said  to  devote 
the  greater  part  of  their  lives  to  tillage — which  I  find  true 
as  far  as  I  have  gone,  though  I  have  not  reached  their  main 
centre  of  distribution — but  beyond  all  doubt  the  second 
largest  share  of  their  time  is  absorbed  by  these  long  excursions — 
so  foolish  a  waste  of  time  according  to  our  ideas — in  search  of 
water.  If  half  the  family  has  to  spend  two  hours,  or  even  more, 
daily  in  bringing  in,  at  the  cost  of  severe  labour,  just  enough 
water  to  cook  their  pittance  of  ugali  and  allow  every  one  a 
muddy  draught  all  round,  it  is  surely  an  economic  absurdity. 

Newala,  too,  suffers  from  the  distance  of  its  water-supply — 
at  least  the  Newala  of  to-day  does  ;  there  was  once  another 
Newala  in  a  lovely  valley  at  the  foot  of  the  plateau.  I  visited 
it  and  found  scarcely  a  trace  of  houses,  only  a  Christian  ceme- 
tery, with  the  graves  of  several  missionaries  and  their  converts, 
remaining  as  a  monument  of  its  former  glories.  But  the  sur- 
roundings are  wonderfully  beautiful.  A  thick  grove  of  splendid 
mango-trees  closes  in  the  weather-worn  crosses  and  headstones  ; 
behind  them,  combining  the  useful  and  the  agreeable,  is  a  whole 
plantation  of  lemon-trees  covered  with  ripe  fruit ;  not  the 
small  African  kind,  but  a  much  larger  and  also  juicier  imported 
variety,  which  drops  into  the  hands  of  the  passing  traveller, 
without  calling  for  any  exertion  on  his  part.  Old  Newala  is 
now  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  native  pastor,  Daudi,  at 
Chingulungulu,  who,  as  I  am  on  very  friendly  terms  with  him, 
allows  me,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  use  of  this  lemon-grove 
during  my  stay  at  Newala. 

The  water-supply  of  New  Newala  is  in  the  bottom  of  the 
valley,  some  1,600  feet  lower  down.  The  way  is  not  only  long 
and  fatiguing,  but  the  water,  when  we  get  it,  is  thoroughly 
bad.  We  are  suffering  not  only  from  this,  but  from  the  fact 
that  the  arrangements  at  Newala  are  nothing  short  of  luxurious. 
We  have  a  separate  kitchen — a  hut  built  against  the  homa 


THE  PLAGUES  OF  CHINGULUNGULU  251 


palisade  on  the  right  of  the  haraza,  the  interior  of  which  is  not 
visible  from  our  usual  position.  Our  two  cooks  were  not  long 
in  finding  this  out,  and  they  consequently  do — or  rather  neglect 
to  do — what  they  please.  In  any  case  they  do  not  seem  to  be 
very  particular  about  the  boiling  of  our  drinking-water — at  least 
I  can  attribute  to  no  other  cause  certain  attacks  of  a  dysenteric 
nature,  from  which  both  Knudsen  and  I  have  suffered  for 
some  time.    If  a  man  like  Omari  has  to  be  left  unwatched 


for  a  moment,  he  is  capable  of  anything.  Besides  this  com- 
plaint, we  are  inconvenienced  by  the  state  of  our  nails,  which 
have  become  as  hard  as  glass,  and  crack  on  the  slightest 
provocation,  and  I  have  the  additional  infliction  of  pimples  all 
over  me.  As  if  all  this  were  not  enough,  we  have  also,  for  the 
last  week  been  waging  war  against  the  jigger,  who  has  found 
his  Eldorado  in  the  hot  sand  of  the  Makonde  plateau.  Our 
men  are  seen  all  day  long — whenever  their  chronic  colds  and  the 
dysentery  likewise  raging  among  them  permit — occupied  in 
removing  this  scourge  of  Africa  from  their  feet  and  tr3nng  to 
prevent  the  disastrous  consequences  of  its  presence.  It  is 
quite  common  to  see  natives  of  this  place  with  one  or  two  toes 
missing  ;  many  have  lost  all  their  toes,  or  even  the  whole 
front  part  of  the  foot,  so  that  a  well-formed  leg  ends  in  a  shape- 
less stump.  These  ravages  are  caused  by  the  female  of  Sarco- 
psylla  penetrans,  which  bores  its  way  under  the  skin  and  there 


FEET  MUTILATED   BY  THE   RAVAGES  OF  THE   "  JIGGER  " 

[Sarcopsylla  penetrans) 


252 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


develops  an  egg-sac  the  size  of  a  pea.  In  all  books  on  the 
subject,  it  is  stated  that  one's  attention  is  called  to  the  presence 
of  this  parasite  by  an  intolerable  itching.  This  agrees  very 
well  with  my  experience,  so  far  as  the  softer  parts  of  the  sole, 
the  spaces  between  and  under  the  toes,  and  the  side  of  the  foot 
are  concerned,  but  if  the  creature  penetrates  through  the 
harder  parts  of  the  heel  or  ball  of  the  foot,  it  may  escape  even 
the  most  careful  search  till  it  has  reached  maturity.  Then 
there  is  no  time  to  be  lost,  if  the  horrible  ulceration,  of  which 
we  see  cases  by  the  dozen  every  day,  is  to  be  prevented.  It  is 
much  easier,  by  the  way,  to  discover  the  insect  on  the  white 
skin  of  a  European  than  on  that  of  a  native,  on  which  the  dark 
speck  scarcely  shows.  The  four  or  five  jiggers  which,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  I  constantly  wore  high  laced  boots,  chose  my 
feet  to  settle  in,  were  taken  out  for  me  by  the  all-accomplished 
Knudsen,  after  which  I  thought  it  advisable  to  wash  out  the 
cavities  with  corrosive  sublimate.  The  natives  have  a  different 
sort  of  disinfectant — they  fill  the  hole  with  scraped  roots.  In 
a  tiny  Makua  village  on  the  slope  of  the  plateau  south  of  Newala, 
we  saw  an  old  woman  who  had  filled  all  the  spaces  under  her 
toe-nails  with  powdered  roots  by  way  of  prophylactic  treatment. 
What  will  be  the  result,  if  any,  who  can  say  ? 

The  rest  of  the  many  trifling  ills  which  trouble  our  existence 
are  really  more  comic  than  serious.  In  the  absence  of  anything 
else  to  smoke,  Knudsen  and  I  at  last  opened  a  box  of  cigars 
procured  from  the  Indian  store-keeper  at  Lindi,  and  tried  them, 
with  the  most  distressing  results.  Whether  they  contain  opium 
or  some  other  narcotic,  neither  of  us  can  say,  but  after  the 
tenth  puff  we  were  both  "  off,"  three-quarters  stupefied  and 
unspeakably  wretched.  Slowly  we  recovered — and  what  hap- 
pened next  ?  Half-an-hour  later  we  were  once  more  smoking 
these  poisonous  concoctions — so  insatiable  is  the  craving  for 
tobacco  in  the  tropics. 

Even  my  present  attacks  of  fever  scarcely  deserve  to  be 
taken  seriously.  I  have  had  no  less  than  three  here  at  Newala, 
all  of  which  have  run  their  course  in  an  incredibly  short  time. 
In  the  early  afternoon,  I  am  busy  with  my  old  natives,  asking 
questions  and  making  notes.  The  strong  midday  coffee  has 
stimulated  my  spirits  to  an  extraordinary  degree,  the  brain  is 
active  and  vigorous,  and  work  progresses  rapidly,  while  a 


AN  ATTACK  OF  FEVER 


253 


plea^nt  warmth  pervades  the  whole  body.  Suddenly  this 
gives  place  to  a  violent  chill,  forcing  me  to  put  on  my  overcoat, 
though  it  is  only  half-past  three  and  the  afternoon  sun  is  at 
its  hottest.  Now  the  brain  no  longer  works  with  such  acuteness 
and  logical  precision  ;  more  especially  does  it  fail  me  in  trying 
to  establish  the  syntax  of  the  difficult  Makua  language  on 
which  I  have  ventured,  as  if  I  had  not  enough  to  do  without 
it.  Under  the  circumstances  it  seems  advisable  to  take  my 
temperature,  and  I  do  so,  to  save  trouble,  without  leaving  my 
seat,  and  while  going  on  with  my  work.  On  examination,  I 
find  it  to  be  101-48°.  ^ly  tutors  are  abruptly  dismissed  and 
my  bed  set  up  in  the  haraza ;  a  few  minutes  later  I  am 
in  it  and  treating  myself  internally  with  hot  water  and 
lemon-juice. 

Three  hours  later,  the  thermometer  marks  nearly  104°,  and 
I  make  them  carry  me  back  into  the  tent,  bed  and  all,  as  I 
am  now  perspiring  hea\'ily,  and  exposure  to  the  cold  wind  just 
beginning  to  blow  might  mean  a  fatal  chill.  I  he  still  for  a 
little  while,  and  then  find,  to  my  great  relief,  that  the  tempera- 
ture is  not  rising,  but  rather  falling.  This  is  about  7.30  p.m. 
At  8  p.m.  I  find,  to  my  unbounded  astonishment,  that  it  has 
fallen  below  98-6°,  and  I  feel  perfectly  well.  I  read  for  an 
hour  or  two,  and  could  very  well  enjoy  a  smoke,  if  I  had  the 
wherewithal — Indian  cigars  being  out  of  the  question. 

Having  no  medical  training,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  account  for 
this  state  of  things.  It  is  impossible  that  these  transitory 
attacks  of  high  fever  should  be  malarial  ;  it  seems  more 
probable  that  they  are  due  to  a  kind  of  sunstroke.  On  con- 
sulting my  note-book,  I  become  more  and  more  inclined  to 
think  this  is  the  case,  for  these  attacks  regularly  follow  extreme 
fatigue  and  long  exposure  to  strong  sunshine.  They  at  least 
have  the  advantage  of  being  only  short  interruptions  to  my 
work,  as  on  the  following  morning  I  am  always  quite  fresh 
and  fit.  My  treasure  of  a  cook  is  suffering  from  an  enormous 
hydrocele  which  makes  it  difficult  for  him  to  get  up,  and 
Moritz  is  obliged  to  keep  in  the  dark  on  account  of  his  inflamed 
eyes.  Knudsen's  cook,  a  raw  boy  from  somewhere  in  the 
bush,  knows  still  less  of  cooking  than  Omari  ;  consequently 
Nils  Knudsen  himself  has  been  promoted  to  the  vacant  post. 
Finding  that  we  had  come  to  the  end  of  our  supplies,  he 


254 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


began  by  sending  to  Chingiiliingulu  for  the  four  sucking-pigs 
which  we  had  bought  from  Matola  and  temporarily  left  in 
his  charge  ;  and  when  they  came  up,  neatly  packed  in  a  large 
crate,  he  callously  slaughtered  the  biggest  of  them.  The 
first  joint  we  were  thoughtless  enough  to  entrust  for  roasting  to 
Knudsen's  mshenzi  cook,  and  it  was  consequently  uneatable  ; 
but  we  made  the  rest  of  the  animal  into  a  jelly  which  w*e  ate 
with  great  relish  after  weeks  of  underfeeding,  consuming 
incredible  helpings  of  it  at  both  midday  and  evening  meals. 
The  only  drawback  is  a  certain  want  of  variety  in  the  tinned 
vegetables.  Dr.  Jager,  to  whom  the  Geographical  Commission 
entrusted  the  provisioning  of  the  expeditions — mine  as  well  as 
his  own — because  he  had  more  time  on  his  hands  than  the 
rest  of  us,  seems  to  have  laid  in  a  huge  stock  of  Teltow  turnips,  ^ 
an  article  of  food  which  is  all  very  well  for  occasional  use, 
but  which  quickly  palls  when  set  before  one  every  day  ;  and 
we  seem  to  have  no  other  tins  left.  There  is  no  help  for  it — 
w^e  must  put  up  with  the  turnips  ;  but  I  am  certain  that, 
once  I  am  home  again,  I  shall  not  touch  them  for  ten  years 
to  come. 

Amid  all  these  minor  evils,  which,  after  all,  go  to  make  up 
the  genuine  flavour  of  Africa,  there  is  at  least  one  cheering 
touch  :  Knudsen  has,  with  the  dexterity  of  a  skilled  mechanic, 
repaired  my  9  x  12  cm.  camera,  at  least  so  far  that  I  can 
use  it  with  a  little  care.  How,  in  the  absence  of  finger-nails, 
he  was  able  to  accomplish  such  a  ticklish  piece  of  work,  having 
no  tool  but  a  clumsy  screw-driver  for  taking  to  pieces  and 
putting  together  again  the  complicated  mechanism  of  the 
instantaneous  shutter,  is  still  a  mystery  to  me  ;  but  he  did  it 
successfully.  The  loss  of  his  finger-nails  shows  him  in  a  light 
contrasting  curiously  enough  with  the  intelligence  evinced  by 
the  above  operation  ;  though,  after  all,  it  is  scarcely  surprising 
after  his  ten  years'  residence  in  the  bush.  One  day,  at  Lindi, 
he  had  occasion  to  wash  a  dog,  w^hich  must  have  been  in 
need  of  very  thorough  cleansing,  for  the  bottle  handed  to  our 
friend  for  the  purpose  had  an  extremely  strong  smell.  Having 
performed  his  task  in  the  most  conscientious  manner,  he 

1  These  are  a  small  kind  of  turnip,  the  size  of  a  large  radish,  grown 
at  and  near  Teltow,  a  Prussian  town  on  the  line  between  Berlin  and 
Potsdam. — [Tr.] 


BUSH  FIRES 


255 


perceived  with  some  surprise  that  the  dog  did  not  appear 
much  the  better  for  it,  and  was  further  surprised  by  finding 
his  own  nails  ulcerating  away  in  the  course  of  the  next  few  days. 
"  How  was  I  to  know  that  carbohc  acid  has  to  be  diluted  ? 
he  mutters  indignantly,  from  time  to  time,  with  a  troubled 
gaze  at  his  mutilated  finger-tips. 

Since  we  came  to  Newala  we  have  been  making  excursions 
in  all  directions  through  the  surrounding  country,  in  accordance 
with  old  habit,  and  also  because  the  akida  Sefu  did  not  get 
together  the  tribal  elders  from  whom  I  wanted  information  so 
speedily  as  he  had  promised.  There  is,  however,  no  harm  done, 
as,  even  if  seen  onh^  from  the  outside,  the  country-  and  people 
are  interesting  enough. 

The  Makonde  plateau  is  like  a  large  rectangular  table 
rounded  off  at  the  corners.  Measured  from  the  Indian  Ocean 
to  Newala,  it  is  about  sevent\^-five  miles  long,  and  between  the 
Rovuma  and  the  Lukuledi  it  averages  fifty  miles  in  breadth,  so 
that  its  superficial  area  is  about  two-thirds  of  that  of  the 
kingdom  of  Saxony.  The  surface,  however,  is  not  level,  but 
uniformly  inclined  from  its  south-western  edge  to  the  ocean. 
From  the  upper  edge,  on  which  Newala  lies,  the  eye  ranges  for 
many  miles  east  and  north-east,  without  encountering  any 
obstacle,  over  the  Makonde  bush.  It  is  a  green  sea,  from  which 
here  and  there  thick  clouds  of  smoke  rise,  to  show  that  it,  too,  is 
inhabited  by  men  who  carry  on  their  tillage  like  so  many  other 
primitive  peoples,  by  cutting  down  and  burning  the  bush,  and 
manuring  with  the  ashes.  Even  in  the  radiant  light  of  a 
tropical  day  such  a  fire  is  a  grand  sight. 

Much  less  effective  is  the  impression  produced  just  now  by 
the  great  western  plain  as  seen  from  the  edge  of  the  plateau. 
As  often  as  time  permits,  I  stroll  along  this  edge,  sometimes 
in  one  direction,  sometimes  in  another,  in  the  hope  of  finding 
the  air  clear  enough  to  let  me  enjoy  the  view  ;  but  I  have 
always  been  disappointed.  Wherever  one  looks,  clouds  of 
smoke  rise  from  the  burning  bush,  and  the  air  is  full  of  smoke 
and  vapour.  It  is  a  pity,  for  under  more  favourable  circum- 
stances the  panorama  of  the  whole  country  up  to  the  distant 
Majeje  hills  must  be  truly  magnificent.  It  is  of  little  use 
taking  photographs  now^  and  an  outline  sketch  gives  a  very 
poor  idea  of  the  scenery.    In  one  of  these  excursions  I  went 


256  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


NATIVE   PATH   THROUGH   THE   MAKONDE  BUSH,    NEAR  MAHUTA 


out  of  my  way  to  make  a  personal  attempt  on  the  Makonde 
bush.  The  present  edge  of  the  plateau  is  the  result  of  a 
far-reaching  process  of  destruction  through  erosion  and  denuda- 
tion. The  Makonde  strata  are  everywhere  cut  into  by 
ravines,  which,  though  short,  are  hundreds  of  yards  in  depth. 
In  Consequence  of  the  loose  stratification  of  these  beds,  not 
only  are  the  walls  of  these  ravines  nearly  vertical,  but  their 
upper  end  is  closed  by  an  equally  steep  escarpment,  so  that 
the  western  edge  of  the  Makonde  plateau  is  hemmed  in  by  a 
series  of  deep,  basin-like  valleys.  In  order  to  get  from  one 
side  of  such  a  ravine  to  the  other,  I  cut  my  way  through  the 
bush  with  a  dozen  of  my  men.  It  was  a  very  open  part,  with 
more  grass  than  scrub,  but  even  so  the  short  stretch  of  less 
than  two  hundred  yards  was  very  hard  work  ;  at  the  end  of 
it  the  men's  calicoes  were  in  rags  and  they  themselves  bleeding 
from  hundreds  of  scratches,  while  even  our  strong  khaki  suits 
had  not  escaped  scatheless. 

I  see  increasing  reason  to  believe  that  the  view  formed  some 
time  back  as  to  the  origin  of  the  Makonde  bush  is  the  correct 
one.    I  have  no  doubt  that  it  is  not  a  natural  product,  but 


MAKONDE  AGRICULTURE 


257 


the  result  of  human  occupation.  Those  parts  of  the  high 
country  where  man — as  a  very  shght  amount  of  practice 
enables  the  eye  to  perceive  at  once — has  not  yet  penetrated 
with  axe  and  hoe,  are  still  occupied  by  a  splendid  timber 
forest  quite  able  to  sustain  a  comparison  with  our  mixed 
forests  in  Germany.  But  wherever  man  has  once  built  his 
hut  or  tilled  his  field,  this  horrible  bush  springs  up.  Every 
phase  of  this  process  may  be  seen  in  the  course  of  a  couple 
of  hours'  walk  along  the  main  road.  From  the  bush  to  right 
or  left,  one  hears  the  sound  of  the  axe — not  from  one  spot 
only,  but  from  several  directions  at  once.  A  few  steps  further 
on,  we  can  see  what  is  taking  place.  The  brush  has  been 
cut  down  and  piled  up  in  heaps  to  the  height  of  a  yard  or 
more,  between  which  the  trunks  of  the  large  trees  stand 
up  like  the  last  pillars  of  a  magnificent  ruined  building.  These, 
too,  present  a  melancholy  spectacle  :  the  destructive  Makonde 
have  ringed  them — cut  a  broad  strip  of  bark  all  round  to 
ensure  their  dying  off — and  also  piled  up  pyramids  of  brush 
round  them.  Father  and  son,  mother  and  son-in-law,  are 
chopping  away  perseveringly  in  the  background — too  busy, 
almost,  to  look  round  at  the  white  stranger,  who  usually  excites 
so  much  interest.  If  you  pass  by  the  same  place  a  week  later, 
the  piles  of  brushwood  have  disappeared  and  a  thick  layer  of 
ashes  has  taken  the  place  of  the  green  forest.  The  large  trees 
stretch  their  smouldering  trunks  and  branches  in  dumb  accusa- 
tion to  heaven — if  they  have  not  already  fallen  and  been  more 
or  less  reduced  to  ashes,  perhaps  only  showing  as  a  white 
stripe  on  the  dark  ground. 

This  work  of  destruction  is  carried  out  by  the  Makonde  alike 
on  the  virgin  forest  and  on  the  bush  which  has  sprung  up  on 
sites  already  cultivated  and  deserted.  In  the  second  case  they 
are  saved  the  trouble  of  burning  the  large  trees,  these  being 
entirely  absent  in  the  secondary  bush. 

After  burning  this  piece  of  forest  ground  and  loosening  it 
with  the  hoe,  the  native  sows  his  corn  and  plants  his  vegetables. 
All  over  the  country,  he  goes  in  for  bed-culture,  which  requires, 
and,  in  fact,  receives,  the  most  careful  attention.  Weeds  are 
nowhere  tolerated  in  the  south  of  German  East  Africa.  The 
crops  may  fail  on  the  plains,  where  droughts  are  frequent,  but 
never  on  the  plateau  with  its  abundant  rains  and  heavy  dews. 

17— (2131) 


258 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Its  fortunate  inhabitants  even  have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
the  proud  Wayao  and  Wamakua  working  for  them  as  labourers, 
driven  by  hunger  to  serve  where  they  were  accustomed  to 
rule. 

But  the  light,  sandy  soil  is  soon  exhausted,  and  would 
yield  no  harvest  the  second  year  if  cultivated  twice  running. 
This  fact  has  been  familiar  to  the  native  for  ages  ;  consequently 
he  provides  in  time,  and,  while  his  crop  is  growing,  prepares 
the  next  plot  with  axe  and  firebrand.  Next  year  he  plants  this 
with  his  various  crops  and  lets  the  first  piece  lie  fallow.  For 
a  short  time  it  remains  waste  and  desolate  ;  then  nature  steps 
in  to  repair  the  destruction  wrought  by  man  ;  a  thousand  new 
growths  spring  out  of  the  exhausted  soil,  and  even  the  old 
stumps  put  forth  fresh  shoots.  Next  year  the  new  growth 
is  up  to  one's  knees,  and  in  a  few  years  more  it  is  that  terrible, 
impenetrable  bush,  which  maintains  its  position  till  the  black 
occupier  of  the  land  has  made  the  round  of  all  the  available 
sites  and  come  back  to  his  starting-point. 

The  Makonde  are,  body  and  soul,  so  to  speak,  one  with  this 
bush.  According  to  my  Yao  informants,  indeed,  their  name 
means  nothing  else  but  "  bush  people."  Their  own  tradition 
says  that  they  have  been  settled  up  here  for  a  very  long  time, 
but  to  my  surprise  they  laid  great  stress  on  an  original  immi- 
gration. Their  old  homes  were  in  the  south-east,  near  Mikin- 
dani  and  the  mouth  of  the  Rovuma,  whence  their  peaceful 
forefathers  were  driven  by  the  continual  raids  of  the  Sakalavas 
from  Madagascar  and  the  warlike  Shirazis^  of  the  coast,  to 
take  refuge  on  the  almost  inaccessible  plateau.  I  have  studied 
African  ethnology  for  twenty  years,  but  the  fact  that  changes 
of  population  in  this  apparently  quiet  and  peaceable  corner  of 
the  earth  could  have  been  occasioned  by  outside  enterprises 
taking  place  on  the  high  seas,  was  completely  new  to  me.  It 
is,  no  doubt,  however,  correct. 

The  charming  tribal  legend  of  the  Makonde — besides 
informing  us  of  other  interesting  matters — explains  why 
they  have  to  live  in  the  thickest  of  the  bush  and  a  long 
way  from  the  edge  of  the  plateau,  instead  of  making 
their  permanent  homes  beside  the  purling  brooks  and  springs 
of  the  low  country. 
1  The  Persians  who  had  settled  at  Lamu  in  the  tenth  century. — [Tr.] 


TRIBAL  LEGEND  OF  THE  MAKONDE  259 


"  The  place  where  the  tribe  originated  is  Mahuta,  on  the 
southern  side  of  the  plateau  towards  the  Rovuma,  where  of  old 
time  there  was  nothing  but  thick  bush.  Out  of  this  bush  came 
a  man  who  never  washed  himself  or  shaved  his  head,  and  who 
ate  and  drank  but  little.  He  went  out  and  made  a  human 
figure  from  the  wood  of  a  tree  growing  in  the  open  country, 
which  he  took  home  to  his  abode  in  the  bush  and  there  set  it 
upright.  In  the  night  this  image  came  to  life  and  was  a 
woman.  The  man  and  woman  went  down  together  to  the 
Rovuma  to  wash  themselves.  Here  the  woman  gave  birth 
to  a  still-born  child.  They  left  that  place  and  passed  over  the 
high  land  into  the  valley  of  the  Mbemkuru,  where  the  woman 
had  another  child,  which  was  also  born  dead.  Then  they  re- 
turned to  the  high  bush  country  of  Mahuta,  where  the  third 
child  was  born,  which  lived  and  grew  up.  In  course  of  time, 
the  couple  had  many  more  children,  and  called  themselves 
Wamatanda.  These  were  the  ancestral  stock  of  the  Makonde, 
also  called  Wamakonde,  ^  i.e.,  aborigines.  Their  forefather,  the 
man  from  the  bush,  gave  his  children  the  command  to  bury 
their  dead  upright,  in  memory  of  the  mother  of  their  race  who 
was  cut  out  of  wood  and  awoke  to  life  when  standing  upright. 
He  also  warned  them  against  settling  in  the  valleys  and  near 
large  streams,  for  sickness  and  death  dwelt  there.  They  were 
to  make  it  a  rule  to  have  their  huts  at  least  an  hour's  walk  from 
the  nearest  watering-place  ;  then  their  children  would  thrive 
and  escape  illness." 

The  explanation  of  the  name  Makonde  given  by  my  inform- 
ants is  somewhat  different  from  that  contained  in  the  above 
legend,  which  I  extract  from  a  httle  book  (small,  but  packed 
with  information),  by  Pater  Adams,  entitled  Lindi  unci  sein 
Hinterland.  Otherwise,  my  results  agree  exactly  with  the 
statements  of  the  legend.  Washing  ?  Hapana — there  is  no 
such  thing.  Why  should  they  do  so  ?  As  it  is,  the  supply  of 
water  scarcely  suffices  for  cooking  and  drinking  ;  other  people 
do  not  wash,  so  why  should  the  Makonde  distinguish  himself 
by  such  needless  eccentricity  ?    As  for  shaving  the  head,  the 

1  It  has  sometimes  been  thought  that  the  Ma  in  "  Makiia  "  and 
"  Makonde  "  is  a  prefix,  as  in  "  Matabele,"  "  Mashona,"  etc.  It 
appears,  however,  to  be  an  integral  part  of  the  word,  and  the  correct 
plural  is  therefore  Wamakua,  Wamakonde. — [Tr.] 


260 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


short,  woolly  crop  scarcely  needs  it,  ^  so  the  second  ancestral 
precept  is  likewise  easy  enough  to  follow.  Beyond  this, 
however,  there  is  nothing  ridiculous  in  the  ancestor's  advice. 
I  have  obtained  from  various  local  artists  a  fairly  large  number 
of  figures  carved  in  wood,  ranging  from  fifteen  to  twenty-three 
inches  in  height,  and  representing  women  belonging  to  the 
great  group  of  the  Mavia,  Makonde,  and  Matambwe  tribes. 
The  carving  is  remarkably  w^ell  done  and  renders  the  female 
type  with  great  accuracy,  especially  the  keloid  ornamentation, 
to  be  described  later  on.  As  to  the  object  and  meaning  of 
their  works  the  sculptors  either  could  or  (more  probably) 
would  tell  me  nothing,  and  I  was  forced  to  content  myself 
with  the  scanty  information  vouchsafed  by  one  man,  who 
said  that  the  figures  were  merely  intended  to  represent  the 
nemho — the  artificial  deformations  of  pelele,  ear-discs,  and 
keloids.  The  legend  recorded  by  Pater  Adams  places  these 
figures  in  a  new  light.  They  must  surely  be  more  than  mere 
dolls  ;  and  we  may  even  venture  to  assume  that  they  are — 
though  the  majority  of  present-day  Makonde  are  probably 
unaware  of  the  fact — representations  of  the  tribal  ancestress. 

The  references  in  the  legend  to  the  descent  from  Mahuta 
to  the  Rovuma,  and  to  a  journey  across  the  highlands  into  the 
Mbekuru  valley,  undoubtedly  indicate  the  previous  history  of 
the  tribe,  the  travels  of  the  ancestral  pair  typifying  the  migra- 
tions of  their  descendants.  The  descent  to  the  neighbouring 
Rovuma  valley,  with  its  extraordinary  fertility  and  great 
abundance  of  game,  is  intelligible  at  a  glance — but  the  crossing 
of  the  Lukuledi  depression,  the  ascent  to  the  Rondo  Plateau 
and  the  descent  to  the  Mbemkuru,  also  lie  within  the  bounds 
of  probability,  for  all  these  districts  have  exactly  the  same 
character  as  the  extreme  south.  Now,  however,  comes 
a  point  of  especial  interest  for  our  bacteriological  age.  The 
primitive  Makonde  did  not  enjoy  their  lives  in  the  marshy 
river  valleys.    Disease  raged  among  them,  and  many  died. 

1  The  author  seems  to  have  overlooked  the  fact  that  the  "  short, 
woolly  crop  "  is  the  result  of  regular  shaving.  The  shock  heads  of,  e.g., 
the  Alolo  (Alomwe)  or  other  "  bush  people  "  strike  the  eye  at  once 
among  the  Yaos  or  Anyanja,  and  these  people  (who  are  a  branch  of 
the  Makua)  frequently  wear  the  hair  twisted  into  long  strings.  The 
sentence  about  washing,  as  it  stands,  is  somewhat  too  sweeping,  it 
only  applies  to  districts  where  w^ater  is  scarce — as,  indeed,  appears  from 
other  passages  in  the  book. — [Tr.] 


WARNING  AGAINST  THE  LOWLANDS  261 


It  was  only  after  they  had  returned  to  their  original  home  near 
Mahuta,  that  the  health  conditions  of  these  people  improved. 
We  are  very  apt  to  think  of  the  African  as  a  stupid  person  whose 
ignorance  of  nature  is  only  equalled  by  his  fear  of  it,  and 
who  looks  on  all  mishaps  as  caused  by  evil  spirits  and  malignant 
natural  powers.  It  is 
much  more  correct  to 
assume  in  this  case  that 
the  people  very  early 
learnt  to  distinguish 
districts  infested  with 
malaria  from  those 
where    it    is  absent. 

This  knowledge  is 
crystallized  in  the 
ancestral  warning 
against  settling  in  the 
valleys  and  near  the 
great  waters,  the 
dwelling-places  of  dis- 
ease and  death.  At 
the  same  time,  for 
security  against  the 
hostile  Mavia  south  of 
the  Rovuma,  it  was  en- 
acted that  every  settle- 
ment must  be  not  less  than  a  certain  distance  from  the 
southern  edge  of  the  plateau.  Such  in  fact  is  their  mode 
of  life  at  the  present  day.  It  is  not  such  a  bad  one,  and 
certainly  they  are  both  safer  and  more  comfortable  than  the 
Makua,  the  recent  intruders  from  the  south,  who  have  made 
good  their  footing  on  the  western  edge  of  the  plateau,  extending 
over  a  fairly  wide  belt  of  country.  Neither  Makua  nor 
Makonde  show  in  their  dwellings  anything  of  the  size  and 
comehness  of  the  Yao  houses  in  the  plain,  especially  at  Masasi, 
Chingulungulu  and  Zuza's.  Jumbe  Chauro,  a  Makonde  hamlet 
not  far  from  Newala,  on  the  road  to  Mahuta,  is  the  most  im- 
portant settlement  of  the  tribe  I  have  yet  seen,  and  has  fairly 
spacious  huts.  But  how  slovenly  is  their  construction  com- 
pared with  the  palatial  residences  of  the  elephant-hunters 


USUAL   METHOD  OF  CLOSING  HUT-DOOR 


262 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


MAKONDE  LOCK  AND   KEY  AT  JUMBE  CHAURO 


living  in  the  plain.  The  roofs  are  still  more  untidy  than  in 
the  general  run  of  huts  during  the  dry  season,  the  walls  show 
here  and  there  the  scanty  beginnings  or  the  lamentable  remains 
of  the  mud  plastering,  and  the  interior  is  a  veritable  dog- 
kennel  ;  dirt,  dust  and  disorder  everywhere.  A  few  huts  only 
show  any  attempt  at  division  into  rooms,  and  this  consists 
merely  of  very  roughly-made  bamboo  partitions.  In  one 
point  alone  have  I  noticed  any  indication  of  progress — in  the 
method  of  fastening  the  door.  Houses  all  over  the  south  are 
secured  in  a  simple  but  ingenious  manner.  The  door  consists 
of  a  set  of  stout  pieces  of  wood  or  bamboo,  tied  with  bark- 
string  to  two  cross-pieces,  and  moving  in  two  grooves  round 
one  of  the  door-posts,  so  as  to  open  inwards.  If  the  owner 
wishes  to  leave  home,  he  takes  two  logs  as  thick  as  a  man's 
upper  arm  and  about  a  yard  long.  One  of  these  is  placed 
obliquely  against  the  middle  of  the  door  from  the  inside,  so 
as  to  form  an  angle  of  from  60°  to  75°  with  the  ground.  He 
then  places  the  second  piece  horizontally  across  the  first, 
pressing  it  downward  with  all  his  might.  It  is  kept  in  place 
by  two  strong  posts  planted  in  the  ground  a  few  inches  inside 
the  door.  This  fastening  is  absolutely  safe,  but  of  course 
cannot  be  applied  to  both  doors  at  once,  otherwise  how  could 
the  owTier  leave  or  enter  his  house  ?  I  have  not  yet  succeeded 
in  finding  out  how  the  back  door  is  fastened. 

This  is  the  general  way  of  closing  a  house.  The  Makonde 
at  Jumbe  Chauro,  however,  have  a  much  more  complicated, 
solid  and  original  one.    Here,  too,  the  door  is  as  already 


MAKONDE  LOCK  AND  KEY 


263 


MODE   OF    INSERTING    THE  KEY 

described,  except  that  there  is  only  one  post  on  the  inside, 
standing  by  itself  about  six  inches  from  one  side  of  the  doorway. 
Opposite  this  post  is  a  hole  in  the  wall  just  large  enough  to 
admit  a  man's  arm.  The  door  is  closed  inside  by  a  large 
wooden  bolt  passing  through  a  hole  in  this  post  and  pressing 
with  its  free  end  against  the  door.  The  other  end  has  three 
holes  into  which  fit  three  pegs  running  in  vertical  grooves  inside 
the  post.  The  door  is  opened  with  a  wooden  key  about  a  foot 
long,  somewhat  curved  and  sloped  off  at  the  butt  ;  the  other 
end  has  three  pegs  corresponding  to  the  holes,  in  the  bolt,  so 
that,  when  it  is  thrust  through  the  hole  in  the  wall  and  inserted 
into  the  rectangular  opening  in  the  post,  the  pegs  can  be  lifted 
and  the  bolt  drawn  out.  ^ 

^  "  This  kind  of  lock  and  key,"  says  the  late  Rev.  D.  C.  Scott  {Cyclo- 
pcpdic  Dictionary  of  the  Mang'anja  Language,  s.v.,  mfungulo) ,  "  is 
common  among  the  Ambo  branch  of  the  Mang'anja  "  (living  between 
the  Ruo  junction  and  the  sea),  "  and  is  a  wooden  key  about  a  foot  long, 
with  three  teeth  ;  it  is  passed  in  between  the  wall-post  and  upright 
door-stick  {kapambi)  inside,  and  the  teeth  fit  into  notches  and  lift  the 
bolts  ;  only  the  Ambo  can  make  them  and  they  lock  their  door  thus 
behind  them,  carrying  the  key  with  them  when  they  go  to  any  short 
distance  from  their  house."  (See  also  svv.  Funga  and  Mtengo : 
"  mitengo  ya  Ambo,  the  Ambos'  stick  keys.")  The  ordinary  method 
of  fastening  the  door  [chitseko]  is  by  cross-bars,  slipped  in  between  the 
door  and  the  side  posts.  The  following  passage  from  Mr.  Charles 
Doughty 's  Travels  in  Arabia  Deserta  seems  to  show  that  this  Ambo 
form  of  lock  and  key  must  have  been  borrowed,  directly  or  indirectly, 
from  the  Arab  settlers  on  the  coast — doubtless  at  a  remote  period,  as 
it  seems  to  be  no  longer  in  use  among  the  latter.  "  The  fastening,  as 
in  all  Arabic  places,  is  a  wooden  lock  ;  the  bolt  is  detained  by  little 
pegs  falling  from  above  into  apposite  holes,  the  key  is  a  wooden  stele, 
some  have  them  of  metal,  with  teeth  to  match  the  holes  of  the  lock, 
the  key  put  in  under,  you  strike  up  the  pegs  and  the  slot  mav  be 
withdrawn  "  (Vol.  I,  p.  "l43).— [Tr.] 


264 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


With  no  small  pride  first  one  householder  and  then  a  second 
showed  me  on  the  spot  the  action  of  this  greatest  invention 
of  the  Makonde  Highlands.  To  both  with  an  admiring 
exclamation  of  "  Vizuri  sana  /  "  ("  Very  fine  !  ").  I  expressed 
the  wish  to  take  back  these  marvels  with  me  to  Ulaya,  to  show 
the  Wazungu  what  clever  fellows  the  Makonde  are.  Scarcely 
five  minutes  after  my  return  to  camp  at  Newala,  the  two  men 
came  up  sweating  under  the  weight  of  two  heavy  logs  which 
they  laid  down  at  my  feet,  handing  over  at  the  same  time  the 
keys  of  the  fallen  fortress.  Arguing,  logically  enough,  that  if 
the  key  was  wanted,  the  lock  would  be  wanted  with  it,  they 
had  taken  their  axes  and  chopped  down  the  posts — as  it  never 
occurred  to  them  to  dig  them  out  of  the  ground  and  so  bring 
them  intact.  Thus  I  have  two  badly  damaged  specimens,  and 
the  owners,  instead  of  praise,  come  in  for  a  blowing-up. 

The  Makua  huts  in  the  environs  of  Newala  are  especially 
miserable  ;  their  more  than  slovenly  construction  reminds  one 
of  the  temporary  erections  of  the  Makua  at  Hatia's,  though  the 
people  here  have  not  been  concerned  in  a  war.  It  must  there- 
fore be  due  to  congenital  idleness,  or  else  to  the  absence  of  a 
powerful  chief.  Even  the  haraza  at  Mlipa's,  a  short  hour's 
walk  south-east  of  Newala,  shares  in  this  general  neglect. 
While  public  buildings  in  this  country  are  usually  looked  after 
more  or  less  carefully,  this  is  in  evident  danger  of  being  blown 
over  by  the  first  strong  easterly  gale.  The  only  attractive 
object  in  this  whole  district  is  the  grave  of  the  late  chief  Mhpa. 
I  visited  it  in  the  morning,  while  the  sun  was  still  trying  with 
partial  success  to  break  through  the  rolling  mists,  and  the 
circular  grove  of  tall  euphorbias,  which,  with  a  broken  pot, 
is  all  that  marks  the  old  king's  resting-place,  impressed  one 
with  a  touch  of  pathos.  Even  my  very  materially-minded 
carriers  .seemed  to  feel  something  of  the  sort,  for  instead  of 
their  usual  ribald  songs,  they  chanted  solemnly,  as  we  marched 
on  through  the  dense  green  of  the  Makonde  bush  : — 


(An  oc/ave  lower  on  the  piano.)  Air  A. 


SONG  OF  THE  WANYAMWEZI 


265 


ri  .  ka  .  li  nam 


ku  .  ho  .  fu      ni     na    .     ni  mu  .  pe  .  le  -  ka  .  ge 


rau  .  pe  .  le  -  ka    ju  .  va       na      ba    na  .  m  .  ku  .  twa     sim.ba  mli  .ma    go .  do    .  ka 


*^  ( 

J       \^    V   'r^  ^  ^ 

a  .  si  .  ge    ma  .  rum  .  ba      ba  .  na  . 

m  .  ka  .bwa  a  .  si  .  ga 

we    nam .  ba      chi*.  . 

ku.la   ni  ma.li     si  .    ri.ka.li  namJ)a  wa  .   ku.ho.fu    ni    na  .  ni         mu.pe.le-ka  ge 


ma  .  I 

e  . 

e  -k 

a    jj  .  \ 

a         na    ba  .  na    ra  .  ka  .b  7a      8im.  ba   mli .  ma    go  .  do 

.  ka 

Air  A. 


"  We  shall  arrive  with  the  great  master  ;  we  stand  in  a 
row  and  have  no  fear  about  getting  our  food  and  our  money 
from  the  Serkali  (the  Government).  We  are  not  afraid  ;  we  are 
going  along  with  the  great  master,  the  hon  ;  we  are  going  down 
to  the  coast  and  back." 

With  regard  to  the  characteristic  features  of  the  various 
tribes  here  on  the  western  edge  of  the  plateau,  I  can  arrive  at 
no  other  conclusion  than  the  one  already  come  to  in  the 
plain,  viz.,  that  it  is  impossible  for  anyone  but  a  trained 
anthropologist  to  assign  any  given  individual  at  once  to  his 
proper  tribe.  In  fact,  I  think  that  even  an  anthropological 
speciahst,  after  the  most  careful  examination,  might  find  it  a 


266 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


difficult  task  to  decide.  The  whole  congeries  of  peoples  col- 
lected in  the  region  bounded  on  the  west  by  the  great  Central 
African  rift,  Tanganyika  and  Nyasa,  and  on  the  east  by  the 
Indian  Ocean,  are  closely  related  to  each  other — some  of  their 
languages  are  only  distinguished  from  one  another  as  dialects 
of  the  same  speech,  and  no  doubt  all  the 
tribes  present  the  same  shape  of  skull 
and  structure  of  skeleton.  Thus,  surely, 
there  can  be  no  very  striking  differences  in 
outward  appearance. 

Even  did  such  exist,  I  should  have  no 
time  to  concern  myself  with  them,  for  day 
after  day,  I  have  to  see  or  hear,  as  the  case 
may  be — in  any  case  to  grasp  and  record 
— an  extraordinary  number  of  ethno- 
graphic phenomena.  I  am  almost  dis- 
posed to  think  it  fortunate  that  some 
departments  of  inquiry,  at  least,  are  barred 
by  external  circumstances.  Chief  among 
these  is  the  subject  of  iron-working. 
We  are  apt  to  think  of  Africa  as  a  country 
where  iron  ore  is  everywhere,  so  to  speak, 
to  be  picked  up  by  the  roadside,  and  where 
it  would  be  quite  surprising  if  the  inhabi- 
tants had  not  learnt  to  smelt  the  material 
ready  to  their  hand.  In  fact,  the  know- 
ledge of  this  art  ranges  all  over  the  con- 
tinent, from  the  Kabyles  in  the  north  to 
the  Kafirs  in  the  south.  Here  between  the  Rovuma  and  the 
Lukuledi  the  conditions  are  not  so  favourable.  According  to 
the  statements  of  the  Makonde,  neither  ironstone  nor  any 
other  form  of  iron  ore  is  known  to  them.  They  have  not  there- 
fore advanced  to  the  art  of  smelting  the  metal,  but  have 
hitherto  bought  all  their  iron  implements  from  neighbouring 
tribes.  Even  in  the  plain  the  inhabitants  are  not  much  better 
off.  Only  one  man  now  living  is  said  to  understand  the  art 
of  smelting  iron.  This  old  fundi  lives  close  to  Huwe,  that 
isolated,  steep-sided  block  of  granite  which  rises  out  of  the 
green  solitude  between  Masasi  and  Chingulungulu,  and  whose 
jagged  and  splintered  top  meets  the  traveller's  eye  everywhere. 


THE  ANCESTRESS  OF 
THE  MAKONDE 


NATIVE  METAL-WORK 


267 


While  still  at  Masasi  I  wished  to  see  this  man  at  work,  but  was 
told  that,  frightened  by  the  rising,  he  had  retired  across  the 
Rovuma,  though  he  would  soon  return.  All  subsequent 
inquiries  as  to  whether  the  fundi  had  come  back  met  with  the 
genuine  African  answer,  "  Bado  "  ("  Not  yet  "). 


Some  consolation  was  afforded  me  by  a  brassfounder,  whom 
I  came  across  in  the  bush  near  Akundonde's.  This  man  is  the 
favourite  of  women,  and  therefore  no  doubt  of  the  gods  ;  he 
welds  the  glittering  brass  rods  purchased  at  the  coast  into 
those  massive,  heavy  rings  which,  on  the  wrists  and  ankles  of 
the  local  fair  ones,  continually  give  me  fresh  food  for  admira- 
tion. Like  every  decent  master-craftsman  he  had  all  his  tools 
with  him,  consisting  of  a  pair  of  bellows,  three  crucibles  and  a 
hammer — nothing  more,  apparently.  He  was  quite  willing  to 
show  his  skill,  and  in  a  twinkhng  had  fixed  his  bellows  on  the 
ground.  They  are  simply  two  goat-skins,  taken  off  whole,  the 
four  legs  being  closed  by  knots,  while  the  upper  opening, 
intended  to  admit  the  air,  is  kept  stretched  by  two  pieces  of 
wood.    At  the  lower  end  of  the  skin  a  smaller  opening  is  left 


268 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


into  which  a  wooden  tube  is  stuck.  Tlie  fundi  has  quickly 
borrowed  a  heap  of  wood-embers  from  the  nearest  hut  ;  he 
then  fixes  the  free  ends  of  the  two  tubes  into  an  earthen  pipe, 
and  clamps  them  to  the  ground  by  means  of  a  bent  piece  of 
wood.  Now  he  fills  one  of  liis  small  clay  crucibles,  the  dross 
on  which  sliows  that  they  have  been  long  in  use,  with  the 
yellow  material,  places  it  in  the  midst  of  the  embers,  which,  at 
present  are  only  faintly  glimmering,  and  begins  his  work. 
In  quick  alternation  the  smith's  two  hands  move  up  and  down 
with  the  open  ends  of  the  bellows  ;  as  he  raises  his  hand  he 
holds  the  slit  wide  open,  so  as  to  let  the  air  enter  the  skin  bag 
unhindered.  In  pressing  it  down  he  closes  the  bag,  and 
the  air  puffs  through  the  bamboo  tube  and  clay  pipe  into  the 
fire,  which  quickly  burns  up.  The  smith,  however,  does  not 
keep  on  with  this  work,  but  beckons  to  another  man,  who 
relieves  him  at  the  bellows,  while  he  takes  some  more  tools 
out  of  a  large  skin  pouch  carried  on  his  back.  I  look  on  in 
wonder  as,  with  a  smooth  round  stick  about  the  thickness  of 
a  finger,  he  bores  a  few  vertical  holes  into  the  clean  sand  of 
the  soil.  This  should  not  be  difficult,  yet  the  man  seems  to 
be  taking  great  pains  over  it.  Then  he  fastens  down  to  the 
ground,  with  a  couple  of  wooden  clamps,  a  neat  little  trough 
made  by  splitting  a  joint  of  bamboo  in  half,  so  that  the  ends 
are  closed  by  the  two  knots.  At  last  the  yellow  metal  has 
attained  the  right  consistency,  and  the  fundi  lifts  the  crucible 
from  the  fire  by  means  of  two  sticks  split  at  the  end  to  serve 
as  tongs.  A  short  swift  turn  to  the  left — a  tilting  of  the 
crucible — and  the  molten  brass,  hissing  and  giving  forth  clouds 
of  smoke,  flows  first  into  the  bamboo  mould  and  then  into  the 
holes  in  the  ground. 

The  technique  of  this  backwoods  craftsman  may  not  be  very 
far  advanced,  but  it  cannot  be  denied  that  he  knows  how  to 
obtain  an  adequate  result  by  the  simplest  means.  The  ladies 
of  highest  rank  in  this  country — that  is  to  say,  those  who  can 
afford  it,  wear  two  kinds  of  these  massive  brass  rings,  one 
cylindrical,  the  other  semicircular  in  section.  The  latter  are 
cast  in  the  most  ingenious  way  in  the  bamboo  mould,  the 
former  in  the  circular  hole  in  the  sand.  It  is  quite  a  simple 
matter  for  the  fundi  to  fit  these  bars  to  the  limbs  of  his 
fair  customers  ;  with  a  few  light  strokes  of  his  hammer  he 


LIGHTINc;   Till:    I  .\l<Tlli:R   SIDE   OF  THE   PILE  TURNING    THK    K],n-H()T  VESSEL 

XVASA  WOMAN  MAKING  POTS  AT  MASASI 


270 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


bends  the  pliable  brass  round  arm  or  ankle  without  further 
inconvenience  to  the  wearer. 

Pottery  is  an  art  which  must  always  and  everywhere  excite 
the  interest  of  the  student,  just  because  it  is  so  intimately 
connected  with  the  development  of  human  culture,  and  because 
its  relics  are  one  of  the  principal  factors  in  the  reconstruction 
of  our  own  condition  in  prehistoric  times.  I  shall  always 
remember  with  pleasure  the  two  or  three  afternoons  at  Masasi 
when  Salim  Matola's  mother,  a  slightly-built,  graceful,  pleasant- 
looking  woman,  explained  to  me  with  touching  patience,  by 

means  of  concrete  illustrations, 
the  ceramic  art  of  her  people. 
The  only  implements  for  this 
primitive  process  were  a  lump 
of  clay  in  her  left  hand,  and  in 
the  right  a  calabash  containing 
the  following  valuables  :  the 
fragment  of  a  maize-cob 
stripped  of  all  its  grains,  a 
smooth,  oval  pebble,  about  the 
size  of  a  pigeon's  egg,  a  few  chips 
of  gourd-shell,  a  bamboo  splin- 
ter about  the  length  of  one's 
MAKUA  WOMAN  MAKING  A  POT.      haud,  a  Small  shch,  aud  a  buuch 

SHOWS   THE    BEGINNINGS   OF  THE 

POTTER'S  WHEEL  of    somc    hcrb  resemblmg 

spinach.  Nothing  more.  The 
woman  scraped  with  the  shell  a  round,  shallow  hole  in 
the  soft,  fine  sand  of  the  soil,  and,  when  an  active 
young  girl  had  filled  the  calabash  with  water  for  her, 
she  began  to  knead  the  clay.  As  if  by  magic  it 
gradually  assumed  the  shape  of  a  rough  but  already  well- 
shaped  vessel,  which  only  wanted  a  little  touching  up  with 
the  instruments  before  mentioned.  I  looked  out  with  the 
closest  attention  for  any  indication  of  the  use  of  the  potter's 
wheel,  in  however  rudimentary  a  form,  but  no — hapana  (there 
is  none).  The  embryo  pot  stood  firmly  in  its  little  depression, 
and  the  woman  walked  round  it  in  a  stooping  posture,  whether 
she  was  removing  small  stones  or  similar  foreign  bodies  with 
the  maize-cob,  smoothing  the  inner  or  outer  surface  with  the 
splinter  of  bamboo,  or  later,  after  letting  it  dry  for  a  day, 


WOMEN'S  INVENTIONS 


271 


pricking  in  the  ornamentation  with  a  pointed  bit  of  gourd-shell, 
or  working  out  the  bottom,  or  cutting  the  edge  with  a  sharp 
bamboo  knife,  or  giving  the  last  touches  to  the  finished  vessel. 
This  occupation  of  the  women  is  infinitely  toilsome,  but  it  is 
without  doubt  an  accurate  reproduction  of  the  process  in  use 
among  our  ancestors  of  the  Neolithic  and  Bronze  ages. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  invention  of  pottery,  an  item  in 
human  progress  whose  importance  cannot  be  over-estimated, 
is  due  to  women.  Rough,  coarse  and  unfeeling,  the  men 
of  the  horde  range  over  the  countryside.  When  the  united 
cunning  of  the  hunters  has  succeeded  in  killing  the  game  ; 
not  one  of  them  thinks  of  carrying  home  the  spoil.  A  bright 
fire,  kindled  by  a  vigorous  wielding  of  the  drill,  is  crackling 
beside  them  ;  the  animal  has  been  cleaned  and  cut  up  secundum 
arteni,  and,  after  a  slight  singeing,  will  soon  disappear  under 
their  sharp  teeth  ;  no  one  all  this  time  giving  a  single  thought 
to  wife  or  child. 

To  what  shifts,  on  the  other  hand,  the  primitive  wife,  and 
still  more  the  primitive  mother,  was  put  !  Not  even  prehistoric 
stomachs  could  endure  an  unvarying  diet  of  raw  food.  Some- 
thing or  other  suggested  the  beneficial  effect  of  hot  water 
on  the  majority  of  approved  but  indigestible  dishes.  Perhaps 
a  neighbour  had  tried  holding  the  hard  roots  or  tubers  over 
the  fire  in  a  calabash  filled  with  water — or  maybe  an  ostrich- 
egg-shell,  or  a  hastily  improvised  vessel  of  bark.  They 
became  much  softer  and  more  palatable  than  they  had  pre- 
viousty  been  ;  but,  unfortunately,  the  vessel  could  not  stand 
the  fire  and  got  charred  on  the  outside.  That  can  be  remedied, 
thought  our  ancestress,  and  plastered  a  layer  of  wet  clay  round 
a  similar  vessel.  This  is  an  improvement ;  the  cooking 
utensil  remains  uninjured,  but  the  heat  of  the  fire  has  shrunk 
it,  so  that  it  is  loose  in  its  shell.  The  next  step  is  to  detach  it, 
so,  with  a  firm  grip  and  a  jerk,  shell  and  kernel  are  separated, 
and  pottery  is  invented.  Perhaps,  however,  the  discovery 
which  led  to  an  intelligent  use  of  the  burnt-clay  shell,  was  made 
in  a  slightly  different  way.  Ostrich-eggs  and  calabashes  are 
not  to  be  found  in  every  part  of  the  world,  but  everywhere 
mankind  has  arrived  at  the  art  of  making  baskets  out  of  phant 
materials,  such  as  bark,  bast,  strips  of  palm-leaf,  supple  twigs, 
etc.  Our  inventor  has  no  water-tight  vessel  provided  by  nature. 


272 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


"  Never  mind,  let  us  line  the  basket  with  clay."  This  answers 
the  purpose,  but  alas  !  the  basket  gets  burnt  over  the  blazing 
fire,  the  wo:uan  watches  the  process  of  cooking  with  increasing 
uneasiness,  feaiing  a  leak,  but  no  leak  appears.  The  food, 
done  to  a  turn,  is  eaten  with  peculiar  relish  ;  and  the  cooking- 
vessel  is  examined,  half  in  curiosity,  half  in  satisfaction  at  the 
result.  The  plastic  clay  is  now  hard  as  stone,  and  at  the  same 
time  looks  exceedingly  well,  for  the  neat  plaiting  of  the 
burnt  basket  is  traced  all  over  it  in  a  pretty  pattern.  Thus, 
simultaneously  with  pottery,  its  ornamentation  was  invented. 

Primitive  woman  has  another  claim  to  respect.  It  was  the 
man,  roving  abroad,  who  invented  the  art  of  producing  fire 
at  will,  but  the  woman,  unable  to  imitate  him  in  this,  has 
been  a  Vestal  from  the  earhest  times.  Nothing  gives  so  much 
trouble  as  the  keeping  alight  of  the  smouldering  brand,  and, 
above  all,  when  all  the  men  are  absent  from  the  camp.  Heavy 
rain-clouds  gather,  already  the  first  large  drops  are  falhng, 
the  first  gusts  of  the  storm  rage  over  the  plain.  The  httle 
flame,  a  greater  anxiety  to  the  woman  than  her  own  children, 
flickers  unsteadily  in  the  blast.  What  is  to  be  done  ?  A 
sudden  thought  occurs  to  her,  and  in  an  instant  she  has 
constructed  a  primitive  hut  out  of  strips  of  bark,  to  protect 
the  flame  against  rain  and  wind. 

This,  or  something  very  like  it,  was  the  way  in  which  the 
principle  of  the  house  was  discovered  ;  and  even  the  most  har- 
dened misogynist  cannot  fairly  refuse  a  woman  the  credit  of  it. 
The  protection  of  the  hearth-fire  from  the  w^eather  is  the  germ 
from  which  the  human  dwelling  was  evolved.  Men  had  little, 
if  any  share,  in  this  forward  step,  and  that  only  at  a  late 
stage.  Even  at  the  present  day,  the  plastering  of  the  house- 
wall  with  clay  and  the  manufacture  of  pottery  are  exclusively 
the  women's  business.  These  are  two  very  significant 
survivals.  Our  European  kitchen-garden,  too,  is  originally  a 
woman's  invention,  and  the  hoe,  the  primitive  instrument  of 
agriculture,  is,  characteristically  enough,  still  used  in  this 
department.  But  the  noblest  achievement  which  we  owe  to 
the  other  sex  is  unquestionably  the  art  of  cookery.  Roasting 
alone — the  oldest  process — is  one  for  which  men  took  the 
hint  (a  very  obvious  one)  from  nature.  It  must  have  been 
suggested  by  the  scorched  carcase  of  some  animal  overtaken  by 


NATIVE  POTTERY 


273 


the  destructive  forest-fires.  But  boiling — the  process  of  im- 
proving organic  substances  by  the  help  of  water  heated  to 
boihng-point — is  a  much  later  discovery.  It  is  so  recent  that 
it  has  not  even  yet  penetrated  to  all  parts  of  the  world.  The 
Polynesians  understand  how  to  steam  food,  that  is,  to  cook 
it,  neatly  wrapped  in  leaves,  in  a  hole  in  the  earth  between  hot 
stones,  the  air  being  excluded,  and  (sometimes)  a  few  drops  of 
water  sprinkled  on  the  stones  ;  but  they  do  not  understand 
boihng. 

To  come  back  from  this  digression,  we  find  that  the  slender 
Nyasa  woman  has,  after  once  more  carefully  examining  the 
finished  pot,  put  it  aside  in  the  shade  to  dry.  On  the  following 
day  she  sends  me  word  by  her  son,  Sahm  Matola,  who  is 
always  on  hand,  that  she  is  going  to  do  the  burning,  and,  on 
coming  out  of  my  house,  I  find  her  already  hard  at  work. 
She  has  spread  on  the  ground  a  layer  of  very  dry  sticks,  about 
as  thick  as  one's  thumb,  has  laid  the  pot  (now  of  a  yellowish- 
grey  colour)  on  them,  and  is  piling  brushwood  round  it.  My 
faithful  Pesa  mbili,  the  mnyampara,  who  has  been  standing  by, 
most  obligingly,  with  a  lighted  stick,  now  hands  it  to  her. 
Both  of  them,  blowing  steadily,  light  the  pile  on  the  lee  side, 
and,  when  the  flame  begins  to  catch,  on  the  weather  side  also. 
Soon  the  whole  is  in  a  blaze,  but  the  dry  fuel  is  quickly  con- 
sumed and  the  fire  dies  down,  so  that  we  see  the  red-hot 
vessel  rising  from  the  ashes.  The  woman  turns  it  continually 
with  a  long  stick,  sometimes  one  way  and  sometimes  another, 
so  that  it  may  be  evenly  heated  all  over.  In  twenty  minutes 
she  rolls  it  out  of  the  ash-heap,  takes  up  the  bundle  of  spinach, 
which  has  been  lying  for  two  days  in  a  jar  of  water,  and 
sprinkles  the  red-hot  clay  with  it.  The  places  where  the  drops 
fall  are  marked  by  black  spots  on  the  uniform  reddish-brown 
surface.  With  a  sigh  of  relief,  and  with  visible  satisfaction, 
the  woman  rises  to  an  erect  position  ;  she  is  standing  just  in  a 
line  between  me  and  the  fire,  from  which  a  cloud  of  smoke  is 
just  rising  :  I  press  the  ball  of  my  camera,  the  shutter  chcks — 
the  apotheosis  is  achieved  !  Like  a  priestess,  representative  of 
her  inventive  sex,  the  graceful  woman  stands  :  at  her  feet  the 
hearth-fire  she  has  given  us  beside  her  the  invention  she  has 
devised  for  us,  in  the  background  the  home  she  has  built 
for  us. 

i8— (2131) 


274 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


At  Newala,  also,  I  have  had  the  manufacture  of  pottery 
carried  on  in  my  presence.  Technically  the  process  is  better 
than  that  already  described,  for  here  we  find  the  beginnings 
of  the  potter's  wheel,  which  does  not  seem  to  exist  in  the 
plains  ;  at  least  I  have  seen  nothing  of  the  sort.  The  artist,  a 
frightfully  stupid  Makua  woman,  did  not  make  a  depression 
in  the  ground  to  receive  the  pot  she  was  about  to  shape,  but 
used  instead  a  large  potsherd.  Otherwise,  she  went  to  work 
in  much  the  same  way  as  Salim's  mother,  except  that  she  saved 
herself  the  trouble  of  walking  round  and  round  her  work  by 
squatting  at  her  ease  and  letting  the  pot  and  potsherd  rotate 
round  her  ;  this  is  surely  the  first  step  towards  a  machine. 
But  it  does  not  follow  that  the  pot  was  improved  by  the 
process.  It  is  true  that  it  was  beautifully  rounded  and 
presented  a  very  creditable  appearance  when  finished,  but  the 
numerous  large  and  small  vessels  which  I  have  seen,  and,  in 
part,  collected,  in  the  "  less  advanced  "  districts,  are  no  less 
so.  We  moderns  imagine  that  instruments  of  precision  are 
necessary  to  produce  excellent  results.  Go  to  the  prehistoric 
collections  of  our  museums  and  look  at  the  pots,  urns  and  bowls 
of  our  ancestors  in  the  dim  ages  of  the  past,  and  you  will  at 
once  perceive  your  error. 

To-day,  nearly  the  whole  population  of  German  East  Africa 
is  clothed  in  imported  cahco.  This  was  not  always  the  case  ; 
even  now  in  some  parts  of  the  north  dressed  skins  are  still 
the  prevailing  wear,  and  in  the  north-western  districts — 
east  and  north  of  Lake  Tanganyika — lies  a  zone  where  bark- 
cloth  has  not  yet  been  superseded.  Probably  not  many 
generations  have  passed  since  such  bark  fabrics  and  kilts  of 
skins  were  the  only  clothing  even  in  the  south.  Even  to-day, 
large  quantities  of  this  bright-red  or  drab  material  are  still  to 
be  found  ;  but  if  we  wish  to  see  it,  we  must  look  in  the  granaries 
and  on  the  drying-stages  inside  the  native  huts,  where  it  serves 
less  ambitious  uses  as  wrappings  for  those  seeds  and  fruits  which 
require  to  be  packed  with  special  care.  The  salt  produced  at 
Masasi,  too,  is  packed  for  transport  to  a  distance  in  large 
sheets  of  bark-cloth.  Wherever  I  found  it  in  any  degree 
possible,  I  studied  the  process  of  making  this  cloth.  The 
native,  requisitioned  for  the  purpose  arrived,  carrying  a  log 
between  two  and  three  yards  long  and  as  thick  as  his  thighs 


BARK-CLOTH 


275 


MAKING   LONGITUDINAL  CCT   IN   BARK  DRAWING  THE    BARK    OFF  THE  LOG 


WORKING   THE   BARK-CLOTH   AFTER  BEATING, 
TO   MAKE  IT  SOFT 


MANUFACTURE  OF  BARK-CLOTH  AT  NEWALA 

and  nothing  else  except  a  curiously-shaped  mallet  and  the 
usual  long,  sharp  and  pointed  knife  which  all  men  and  boys 
wear  in  a  belt  at  their  backs  without  a  sheath — horrihile  dictu  !  ^ 
Silently  he  squats  down  before  me,  and  with  two  rapid  cuts 

^  Both  Yaos  and  Anyanja  carry  sheath-knives,  either  stuck  in  the 
waist-cloth  or  hung  to  a  cross-belt  passing  over  the  right  shoulder,  or 
(if  of  small  size)  on  a  string  round  the  neck  or  left  arm-. — [Tr.] 


276 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


has  drawn  a  couple  of  circles  round  the  log  some  two  yards 
apart,  and  shts  the  bark  lengthwise  between  them  with  the 
point  of  his  knife.  With  evident  care,  he  then  scrapes  off  the 
outer  rind  all  round  the  log,  so  that  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the 
inner  red  layer  of  the  bark  shows  up  brightly-coloured  between 
the  two  untouched  ends.  With  some  trouble  and  much 
caution,  he  now  loosens  the  bark  at  one  end,  and  opens  the 
cylinder.  He  then  stands  up,  takes  hold  of  the  free  edge  with 
both  hands,  and  turning  it  inside  out,  slowly  but  steadily  pulls 
it  off  in  one  piece.  Now  comes  the  troublesome  work  of 
scraping  all  superfluous  particles  of  outer  bark  from  the 
outside  of  the  long,  narrow  piece  of  material,  while  the  inner 
side  is  carefully  scrutinised  for  defective  spots.  At  last 
it  is  ready  for  beating.  Having  signalled  to  a  friend,  who 
immediately  places  a  bowl  of  water  beside  him,  the  artificer 
damps  his  sheet  of  bark  all  over,  seizes  his  mallet,  lays  one 
end  of  the  stuff  on  the  smoothest  spot  of  the  log,  and  hammers 
away  slowly  but  continuously.  "  Very  simple  !  "  I  think  to 
myself.  "Why,  I  could  do  that,  too!" — but  I  am  forced  to 
change  my  opinions  a  little  later  on  ;  for  the  beating  is  quite 
an  art,  if  the  fabric  is  not  to  be  beaten  to  pieces.  To  prevent 
the  breaking  of  the  fibres,  the  stuff  is  several  times  folded  across, 
so  as  to  interpose  several  thicknesses  between  the  mallet  and 
the  block.  At  last  the  required  state  is  reached,  and  the  fundi 
seizes  the  sheet,  still  folded,  by  both  ends,  and  wrings  it  out,  or 
calls  an  assistant  to  take  one  end  while  he  holds  the  other. 
The  cloth  produced  in  this  way  is  not  nearly  so  fine  and  uniform 
in  texture  as  the  famous  Uganda  bark-cloth,  but  it  is  quite 
soft,  and,  above  all,  cheap. 

Now,  too,  I  examine  the  mallet.  My  craftsman  has  been 
using  the  simpler  but  better  form  of  this  implement,  a  conical 
block  of  some  hard  wood,  its  base — the  striking  surface — 
being  scored  across  and  across  with  more  or  less  deeply-cut 
grooves,  and  the  handle  stuck  into  a  hole  in  the  middle.  The 
other  and  earlier  form  of  mallet  is  shaped  in  the  same  way, 
but  the  head  is  fastened  by  an  ingenious  network  of  bark  strips 
into  the  split  bamboo  serving  as  a  handle.  The  observation  so 
often  made,  that  ancient  customs  persist  longest  in  connection 
with  religious  ceremonies  and  in  the  life  of  children,  here  finds 
confirmation.    As  we  shall  soon  see,  bark-cloth  is  still  worn 


CEREMONIAL  SURVIVALS 


277 


during  the  unyago,  ^  having  been  prepared  with  special  solemn 
ceremonies  ;  and  many  a  mother,  if  she  has  no  other  garment 
handy,  will  still  put  her  little  one  into  a  kilt  of  bark-cloth, 
which,  after  all,  looks  better,  besides  being  more  in  keeping 
with  its  African  surroundings,  than  the  ridiculous  bit  of  print 
from  Ulaya. 

1  The  reference  is  to  p.  315  where  the  chimbandi  ceremony  (observed 
when  a  young  wife  is  expecting  her  first  child)  is  described.  Dr.  Weule 
does  not  mention  the  fact  of  bark-cloth  being  worn  by  the  girls  at  the 
unyago  mysteries  he  has  previously'  described — indeed,  he  says 
expressly  that,  at  Nuchi  (p.  231,  and  apparently  also  at  Akuchikomu's, 
p.  222)  they  were  dressed  in  new,  bright-coloured  calicoes.  But  he 
appears  to  have  witnessed  only  the  closing  ceremony.  Usually,  if  not 
always,  bark-cloth  is  worn  during  the  weeks  spent  in  the  bush.  This 
was  certainly  the  case  among  the  Yaos  of  the  Shire  Highlands,  fourteen 
or  fifteen  years  ago,  and  probably  is  so  still.  "  The  unyago  [at  one  of 
the  Xdirande  villages  near  Blantyre]  was  just  over,  and  [two  of  the 
missionaries]  met  the  girls  coming  away  from  it  all  freshly  anointed  and 
dripping  with  oil.  They  found  the  masasa  (booths  or  huts)  built  round 
three  sides  of  a  square,  divided  into  little  compartments,  where  the 
girls  sleep.  They  are  not  allowed  outside  the  place  till  the  thing  is 
over,  and  they  wear  bark-cloth.  In  the  middle  of  the  square  w-ere 
traces  of  pots  having  been  made,  and  ufa  (flour)  pounded.  .  .  .  The 
girls  go  through  symbolic  performances  of  all  their  married  duties, — 
pretend  to  sow  maize,  hoe  it,  gather  it,  bring  it  home,  etc. — pounding, 
sweeping,  fetching  water,  cooking,  making  pots,  etc.,  are  all  gone 
through."— (MS.  note,  September  26th  and  27th,  1894.)— [Tr.] 


MAKUA  WOMEN 


CHAPTER  XIV 

FURTHER  RESEARCHES 

Last  week,  we  had  a  few  days  of  such  cool,  bright,  windless 
weather,  that  it  seemed  as  if  a  St.  Luke's  summer  had  set  in. 
Now,  however,  the  icy  gales  from  the  east  are  once  more  blow- 
ing round  the  boma  of  Newala,  and  we  had  rain  on  Michaelmas 
Day,  which  was  somewhat  early.  This  must  have  been  a 
signal  universally  understood  by  young  and  old  ;  for  I  am  no 
longer  besieged  by  the  hitherto  inevitable  boys,  and  my  old 
men,  too,  have  ceased,  their  visits.  Fortunately,  I  have  been 
able  to  pump  the  old  gentlemen  so  effectually  in  the  course  of 
the  last  few  weeks  that  I  could  leave  at  once,  quite  happy  in 
the  possession  of  an  enormous  stock  of  notes,  were  I  not 
detained  by  the  linguistic  inquiries  which  I  am  now  set 
on  making.  It  is  quite  impossible  to  give  here  even  the 
'  merest  indication  of  the  knowledge  so  far  gained  as  to  all 
these  more  or  less  strange  customs  and  usages.    The  details 

278 


MR.  TWOPENCE  AND  MR.  BLANKET  279 


will  have  a  place  in  official  and  other  documents  to  the  prepara- 
tion of  which  the  leisure  of  many  coming  terms  will  have 
to  be  sacrificed  ;  here  I  can  only  indicate  such  prominent 
points  as  are  calculated  to  interest  every  civihzed  person. 

Personal  names  among  the  natives  offer  an  unlimited  field 
for  research.  Where  Islam  has  already  gained  a  footing, 
Arab  names  are  prevalent.  The  Makonde  askari  Saidi  bin 
Musa  keeps  step  with  his  comrade  Ali  bin  Pinga  from  Nyasa, 
and  Hasani  from  Mkhutu  marches  behind  the  Yao  porter 
Hamisi.  Among  the  interior  tribes  the  division  into  clans 
predominates  as  a  principle  of  social  classification,  and  there- 
fore, even  in  the  case  of  converts  to  Christianity,  the  baptismal 
name  is  followed  by  the  clan  name.  Daudi  (David)  Machina 
is  the  name  of  the  native  pastor  at  Chingulungulu,  and  the 
presumptive  successor  to  Matola  I  and  Matola  II  calls  himself 
Claudio  Matola.  We  shall  have  something  more  to  say  about 
these  clan  names  later  on. 

The  meaning  of  the  names  is  often  equally  interesting. 
My  carriers  alone  have  already  provided  me  with  a  good  deal 
of  amusement  in  this  respect,  the  appellations  they  go  by 
being  in  most  cases  exceedingly  absurd.  Pesa  mbili  ("  Mr. 
Twopence  ")  is  as  familiar  to  us  as  his  friend  Kofia  tule,  the 
tall  man  with  the  little  flat  cap,  Kazi  Ulaya,  the  man  who 
works  for  the  European  and  Mambo  sasa — "Affairs  of  to-day." 
Besides  these,  the  following  gentlemen  are  running  about 
among  the  two  dozen  who  compose  my  faithful  retinue  : — 
Mr.  Blanket  (Kinyamwezi  hulangeti,  corrupted  from  the 
Enghsh  word),  Mr.  Cigarette  (no  commentary  needed),  Kamba 
Ulaya  (European  rope,  i.e.  hemp  rope  as  distinguished  from 
native  cordage  of  cocoa-nut  fibre  or  palm-leaf  twist),  Mr. 
Mountam  (Kilima)  and  Messrs.  Kompania  and  Kapella  (Com- 
pany and  Band — from  the  German  Kapelle).  The  names 
Mashua  (boat)  and  Meli  (steamer,  from  the  English mail ") 
have  a  nautical  suggestion  and  Sita  (Six)  an  arithmetical 
one — and,  to  wind  up  with,  we  have  Mpenda  kula — ("  He 
who  loves  eating  "). 

The  names  used  by  the  interior  tribes  are  free  from  the 
noticeable  European  touch  found  in  these  designations  of  the 
carriers,  but  here,  too,  we  come  across  amusing  specimens. 
I  notice  at  the  same  time  that  these  names  are  certainly  not 


280 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


the  first  to  grace  their  bearers.  As  is  so  often  the  case  with 
primitive  peoples,  and  with  the  Japanese  at  the  present  day, 
we  find  that  every  individual  on  being  formally  admitted  to 
the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  adult  life  assumes  a  new  name. 
The  natives  hereabouts  do  not  know  or  have  forgotten  the 
original  significance  of  this  change,  but  we  are  not  likely  to 
be  wrong  in  supposing  that  the  new  name  also  means  a  new 
person,  who  stands  in  quite  a  different  relation  to  his  kinsmen 
and  his  tribe  from  his  former  one.  Officially,  every  adult  Yao, 
Makua,  Makonde  or  Matambwe  has  the  right  to  offer  himself 
as  godfather,  but  I  have  the  impression  that  the  majority 
of  names  one  hears  are  really  nicknames,  casually  given  by 
acquaintances.  ^  It  is  well  known  that  the  native  has  a  very 
acute  sense  of  the  weak  points  and  absurdities  of  others. 

Che  Likoswe  ("  Mr.  Rat  ")  will  be  remembered  by  his  war- 
songs  at  Chingulungulu,  and  with  him  may  be  classed  Che 
Chipembere  ("  Mr.  Rhinoceros").  The  latter  is  liable  to  fits 
of  sudden  rage,  like  the  pachyderm,  hence  his  name.  The 
name  of  the  old  beer-drinker,  Akundonde,  is  a  reminiscence 
of  his  original  kinship  with  the  Wandonde  tribe.  Che 
Kamenya  is  he  who  is  victorious  in  fight ;  there  was  joy  at  the 
birth  of  Machina  ;  Makwenya  gathers  everything  to  himself, 
but  Che  Mduulaga,  on  the  other  hand,  thinks  nothing  of 
himself, — he  is  modesty  in  person.  In  the  same  way,  Mkotima 
is  a  quiet  man,  Siliwindi  is  named  after  a  song-bird  so-called  ; 
and,  finally,  Mkokora  is  he  who  carries  away  dirt  in  his 
hands. 

These  are  some  Yao  men's  names.  I  will  only  mention  the 
following  women's  names  for  this  tribe  : — Che  Malaga  means 
"  She  is  left  alone  " — all  her  relations  have  died.  Che 
Chelayero,  "  She  who  has  a  hard  time."  Che  Tulaye, 
"  She  who  fares  poorly,"  and  Che  Waope,  "  She  is  yours." 

The  personal  names  of  the  other  tribes  have  on  the  whole  the 
same  character — Kunanyupu  is  an  old  Makua,  who,  according 
to  his  own  statement,  has  killed  many  gnus  (nyupu)  in  his 
youth.    Nantiaka  is  the  Don  Juan  who  flits  from  one  attraction 

^  A  native  is  not  likely  to  tell  a  stranger,  above  all  a  European,  the 
names  by  which  he  is  known  at  home.  Tlie  name  by  which  he  is  known 
to  his  employer  is  therefore  most  probably  a  nickname,  or  one  assumed 
by  himself  for  the  occasion. — [Tr.1 


WOMEN'S  NAMES 


281 


to  another.  A  similar  train  of  thought  has  suggested  the  name 
of  Ntindinganya,  the  joker,  who  contrives  to  saddle  others 
with  the  blame  of  his  own  tricks.  Linyongonyo  is  the  weakling  ; 
Nyopa  the  ambitious  man  who  strives  to  make  himself  feared 
by  others ;  Madriga  is  the  sad,  melancholy  man  ;  Dambwala 
the  lazy  one. 

Among  the  women  Alwenenge  is  "  the  one  who  knows  her 
own  worth," — her  lord  and  master  has,  it  is  true,  taken  another 
wife,  but  he  will  not  remain  with  her,  but  return  penitently 
to  Alwenenge,  as  she  very  well  knows.  Much  less  fortunate 
is  Nantupuli  ;  she  wanders  about  the  world  and  finds  nothing 
at  all,  neither  a  husband  nor  anything  else.  Other  unfortu- 
nates are  Atupimiri  and  Achinaga — the  former  has  a  husband 
who  is  always  on  his  travels  and  only  comes  home  from  time 
to  time  to  "  measure  "  (pima)  his  wife,  to  see  how  she  is 
behaving.  Achinaga's  husband,  on  the  other  hand,  is  ill  and 
cannot  work,  so  that  she  has  to  do  everything  by  herself. 
There  is  also  a  Pesa  mbili  among  the  Makonde  women.  The 
name  implies  that  she  formerly  stood  high  in  the  estimation 
of  men,  but  now  she  has  grown  old  and  is  only  worth  two 
pice.    Beauty  has  its  market  value  even  with  the  negro. 

A  field  of  inquiry,  extremely  difficult  to  work,  but  which 
will  everywhere  well  repay  cultivation,  is  that  of  the  customs 
accompanying  the  life  of  the  individual  from  his  cradle  to 
his  grave. 

The  native  infant — which  is  not  black,  but  at  first  as  pink 
as'  our  own  new-born  babies — has  come  into  the  world  in  its 
mother's  hut.  The  father  is  far  from  the  spot,  the  women 
having  sent  him  out  of  the  way  in  good  time.  The  baby  is 
carefully  washed,  and  wrapped  in  a  piece  of  new  bark-cloth. 
At  the  same  time  its  ears  are  anointed  with  oil,  that  it  may 
hear  well,  and  the  ligature  under  the  tongue  loosened  with  a 
razor,  to  ensure  its  learning  to  speak.  Boys  are  everywhere 
welcomed ;  but  with  regard  to  girls,  the  feeling  varies  in  different 
tribes,  and,  just  as  is  the  case  among  ourselves,  in  different 
families.  It  is  often  stated  in  ethnographical  works  that 
primitive  peoples  rejoice  on  purely  interested  grounds  at  the 
birth  of  girls,  on  account  of  the  price  they  will  bring  when 
married.  Up  to  a  certain  point  such  considerations  may  have 
weight  here,  too,  but  in  general  people  are  glad  of  daughters 


282 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


if  only  because  they  can  soon  begin  to  help  their  mother  in 
her  numerous  outdoor  and  indoor  tasks.  Their  marriage, 
moreover,  brings  an  additional  faithful  and  unpaid  worker 
into  the  household.  For  this  is  the  land  of  exogamy,  where 
the  young  wife  does  not  go  to  her  husband's  home,  or  enter 
his  family,  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  man  leaves  his  father 
and  mother  and  either  moves  directly  into  the  house  of  his 
wife's  parents,  or  builds  his  own  close  beside  it.  In  any  case 
for  some  years,  until  his  own  family  circumstances  necessitate 
a  different  arrangement,  he  devotes  all  his  powers  to  keeping 
up  his  mother-in-law's  establishment.  He  sees  to  the  planting 
of  the  crops  and  their  ingathering,  he  breaks  up  new  ground, 
in  short  he  renders  every  possible  service,  and  anticipates  her 
every  wish.  I  have  often  been  ashamed  when  the  conversation 
turned  on  this  and  other  features  of  native  life,  to  remember 
the  tenor  of  those  venerable  jests  of  which  our  comic  papers 
never  weary.  Of  course,  a  mere  passing  traveller  like  myself 
is  no  judge  of  the  more  intimate  side  of  family  life,  but 
Knudsen,  who  has  lived  in  the  country  long  enough  to  become 
thoroughly  familiar  with  the  people's  ways  of  thinking  and 
acting,  confirms  the  impression  I  had  arrived  at,  that,  not  only 
is  the  relation  between  mother  and  son-in-law  nothing  short 
of  ideal,  but  that  the  behaviour  of  young  people  to  their  elders 
in  general  deserves  to  be  called  exemplary.  We  who  belong 
to  the  highest  stage  of  culture,  or,  according  to  the  view 
held  by  most  of  us,  the  stage  of  culture,  spend  half  our  lives 
in  educational  establishments  of  various  kinds  and  grades, 
and  the  final  result  is  shown  by  statistics  in  the  diminishing 
percentage  of  illiterates  in  our  population.  But  let  all  who 
have  eyes  to  see  and  ears  to  hear  observe  how  little  ethical 
sense  and  how  much  downright  brutality  make  up  the  daily 
life  of  these  very  representatives  of  culture.  I  am  far  from 
wishing  to  say  anything  against  our  system  of  education  and 
our  schools — I  am  a  kind  of  schoolmaster  myself — but  it  gives 
food  for  serious  reflection  to  see  how  worm-eaten,  in  spite  of  all 
the  care  bestowed  on  it,  is  much  of  the  fruit  they  produce,  and 
how  ethically  sound  is  the  life  we  meet  with  among  these 
barbarians.  And  this  is  the  outcome  of  a  training  extending 
over  three  or  four  months  and  received  from  teachers  who  have 
passed  through  no  school  or  college. 


AFRICAN  BABIES 


283 


The  treatment  of  twins  is  different  among  the  various  tribes 
in  this  part  of  the  country.  The  Wayao  welcome  them  with 
unmixed  joy,  while  the  ]\Iakonde  look  on  their  birtli  as  a  terrible 
event,  to  be  averted  if  possible  by  all  sorts  of  charms.  But 
even  here  the  parents  are  not  so  cruel  as  to  kill  them  if 
they  do  come  into  the  world  ;  they  are  allowed  to  live  and 
treated  in  the  same  way  as  by  the  Wayao,  i.e.,  their  clothing 
(such  as  it  is)  is  always  alike. 
If  this  were  not  done,  it  is  believed 
that  one  of  them  would  certainly 
die. 

For  the  first  year  the  African 
infant  remains  in  close  contact 
with  its  mother.  When  it  is  only 
a  few  days  old,  she  takes  it  out 
for  the  first  time,  to  be  shown  to 
the  admiring  neighbours.  Like  a 
little  lump  of  misery  it  squats  in 
the  large  coloured  cloth  enfolding 
the  upper  part  of  its  mother's 
person.  It  usually  hangs  on  the 
mother's  back,  but  she  very  often 
swings  it  round  to  one  hip.  When 
the  time  comes  for  feeding  the  baby, 
it  and  the  bag  containing  it  are 
brought  round  to  the  front 
rrie  with  the  idea  of  poverty  and  squalor  as  this  treat- 
ment of  infants  :  no  change  of  clothing  for  mother  or 
child — for  there  is  no  supply  of  extra  garments — no  dry- 
ing, no  powdering,  no  napkins,  no  regular  bath  after  the 
first  few  days,  no  care  of  the  mouth.  On  the  contrary,  every 
child  has  sore  places  where  the  skin  has  been  chafed,  especially 
at  the  joints,  and  in  folds  and  depressions  of  the  body  ;  half- 
healed  scabs,  where  nature  is  getting  the  upper  hand  in  spite 
of  neglect ;  eyes  nearly  always  bleared  and  running  in  con- 
sequence of  the  perpetual  attacks  of  flies,  and,  finally,  individual 
cases,  here  and  there,  of  thrush-ulcers  on  such  a  scale  that 
fungoid  growths  actually  protrude  from  mouth  and  nostrils. 
It  would  be  well  if  the  Government  and  the  Missions  could 
unite  to  put  an  end  to  this  frightful  state  of  things,  not  so 


WOMAN  CARRYING  A  BABY  ON 
HER  BACK.      FROM  A  DRAVVINCt 
BY  PESA  MBILI 

Nothing    so  impresses 


284 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


much  by  medical  work,  which  is  naturally  limited  to  certain 
localities,  as  by  training  the  mothers,  as  extensively  as  possible, 
in  the  simplest  rules  of  hygiene  and  cleanliness. 

I  have  been  half-an-hour  in  a  native  village.  The  men  and 
boys  were  all  assembled  within  two  minutes  of  my  arrival ; 
the  women  are  gathering  more  slowly ;  the  little  girls,  curiously 
enough,  are  altogether  absent.  Just  as  with  us,  the  women 
have  at  once  gathered  into  a  closely-packed  group.    A  shy 


maternal  fount  of  nourishment.  My  camera  apparently 
affords  the  pretext  for  this  last  manoeuvre  ;  for,  as  if  at  a 
given  signal,  the  whole  little  black  band  is  propelled  forward 
into  position  at  the  very  moment  w^hen  I  press  the  bulb. 

The  later  stages  of  childhood  among  the  natives  are  passed 
in  a  way  not  materially  differing  from  our  own  youthful 
recollections.  The  little  boys  band  themselves  together  in 
troops  and  carry  on  their  games  in  the  village  and  the  bush  ; 
while  the  little  girls  begin  at  an  early  age  to  help  their  mothers 
indoors  and  out.  Wherever  I  have  been  able  to  carry  on  my 
activity  as  a  collector,  I  have  been  particularly  assiduous  in 
getting  together  all  toys  and  games  in  use  in  the  country. 
There  is  one  point  deserving  of  special  notice  in  connection 
with  children's  games,  and  this  is  that  almost  from  the  first 
day  of  its  existence  the  child  is  present  wherever  anything  is 
going  on.  When  the  mother  joins  in  the  dance,  the  baby  on 
her  back  goes  through  every  movement  with  her,  and  thus 


THREE   MAKUA  VEGETARIANS 


silence  reigns  at  first,  but  no 
sooner  have  they  had  time  to 
get  used  to  the  sight  of  the 
white  man,  than  there  is  an 
outburst  of  talk  in  every  key, 
in  spite  of  the  hugest  of 
peleles.  At  least  half  these 
women  are  carrying  babies, 
but  this  term  is  tolerably 
comprehensive.  Great  boys 
and  girls  of  two,  or  even  three 
years  old,  are  sprawling  on 
the  slight  backs  of  dehcate- 
looking  mothers,  or  making 
violent     attacks     on  the 


GAMES  AND  TOYS 


285 


learns  dancing,  so  to  speak,  instinctively.  By  the  time 
it  can  stand  on  its  own  little  feet,  it  joins  in  with  the  same 
certainty  as  that  with  which  the  partridge  chick  just  out 
of  the  egg  goes  to  pick  up  its  food.  Whether  native  children 
have  outside  these  dances  anything  that  can  be  called  concerted 
games,  I  cannot  say,  but  so  far  I  have  seen  nothing  of  the 
sort,  ^  unless  we  might  count  the  great  skill  shown  in  clapping 
the  hands  in  unison,  in  which,  with  its  pleasing  rhythm  and 
(one  might  almost  say)  variety  of  tune,  they  are  as  much  at 
home  as  their  elders.  Otherwise  every  child  seems  to  be 
dependent  on  itself,  at  least  as  far  as  toys  are  concerned. 
For  boys,  bow  and  arrows  are  the  sine  qua  non  in  the  first 
place.  If  I  had  been  willing  to  buy  all  the  toy  bows  offered 
me,  I  should  have  had  enough  to  load  a  small  ship.  Here  in 
Africa  the  weapon  is  as  much  of  a  survival  as  in  most  other 
countries.  The  fact  of  its  being  confined  to  children  shows 
that,  as  in  Europe,  it  is  no  longer  seriously  used  in  war,  but 
only  in  play,  or  at  most,  in  the  chase.  We  find,  as  might  be 
expected,  that  the  grown  men  are  no  better  archers  than 
the  boys,  and  vice  versa.  Where  firearms  have  once  been 
introduced,  more  primitive  weapons  are  no  longer  valued. 

It  is  not  easy  to  form  an  ethnographical  collection  in  this 
country.  It  is  only  in  consequence  of  my  very  resolute 
attitude — which  is  far  more  effectual  than  my  bags  of  copper 
coin — that  the  people  make  up  their  minds  to  bring  anything 
at  all,  and  then  it  is  chiefly  rubbish.  In  order  to  obtain  the 
more  valuable  class  of  articles,  such  as  the  more  important 
household  implements,  or  the  carved  masks  and  other  works  of 
art,  I  am  frequently  compelled  to  resort  to  a  mild  display  of 
force,  by  making  the  headman  of  the  village  morally  responsible 
for  the  production  of  the  specimens.  And  yet  every  article 
is  liberally  paid  for.  How  peculiarly  difficult  it  is  to  obtain 
toys,  of  all  things,  people  at  home  have  no  notion.  I  would 
suggest  the  following  explanation  for  this  fact.  If  a  Japanese 
ethnographer,  for  instance,  were  to  visit  Germany  in  the  autumn 
he  would  find  it  easy  enough  to  make  a  large  collection  of  kites, 

^  It  is  not  always  easy  to  draw  the  line  between  games  and  dances  ; 
but  there  is  certainly  no  lack  of  the  former.  Particulars  of  games 
played  by  a  number  of  children  are  given  in  Scott,  CyclopcBdic  Dictionary 
of  the  Mang'anja  Language,  s.vv.  Masewero  and  Sewera. — [Tr.] 


286 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


but  tops — to  take  one  of  our  most  typical  children's  toys — 
he  would  only  be  enabled  to  see  and  procure  if  he  definitely 
inquired  for  them.  It  is  just  the  same  here  ;  everything  has 
its  season,  and  toys  above  all.  Having  once  grasped  this 
truth,  I  always  made  short  work  of  the  business,  by  delivering 
to  the  assembled  villagers  a  lecture  on  all  the  playthings  of 
mankind,  winding  up  with,  "  If  you  have  so  and  so — or  so 


USE   OF  THE   THROWING  STtCK 


and  so — be  quick  and  bring  it  here."  In  many  cases  neither 
my  own  linguistic  acquirements  nor  the  interpreter  are 
sufficient,  and  gestures  have  to  supply  the  lack  of  words. 
I  was  quite  startled  at  my  success,  one  day  at  Chingulungulu, 
when,  on  having  gone  through  the  vigorous  movement  of 
slinging  a  stone,  I  saw  Salim  Matola,  the  all-accomplished, 
return  in  a  short  time  with  two  remarkable  objects,  which, 
on  his  demonstration  of  the  way  in  which  they  were  used, 
proved  to  be  a  veritable  throwing-stick  and  a  sling — -an 
amentum.  I  have  rarely  had  such  a  feeling  of  complete 
success  as  at  this  moment.  Who  would  have  thought 
to  find  the  throwing-stick  and  the  sling  in  Eastern  Africa, 


SLINGS  AND  PEG-TOPS 


287 


a  region  hitherto  considered  so  barren  as  regards  ethnography  ? 
The  former  is  an  implement  intended  to  serve  no  other  purpose 
than  the  lengthening  of  the  lower  arm  in  order  to  throw  a 
spear  or  a  stone  ;  it  represents,  therefore,  in  terms  of  physics, 
the  lengthened  arm  of  a  lever.  Its  principal  region  of 
distribution  is  Australia  ;    it  also  exists  in  some  parts  of 


force,  uncoils  itself  from  the  string  and  flies  away  with  great 
initial  velocity. 

Where  such  antiquities  as  these  occur — I  reflected  at  the 
time — surely  there  are  more  discoveries  to  be  made.  This 
expectation  was  in  fact  fulfilled,  though  I  had  first  to  fight 
my  way  through  a  superfluity  of  another  species  of  toy.  One 
day,  in  the  course  of  the  lecture  already  referred  to,  I  happened 
to  make  the  gesture  of  whipping  something  over  the  ground, 
and  it  was  at  once  correctly  understood,  for  from  that  time 
forward  the  young  people  simply  overwhelmed  me  with  tops. 
No  less  than  four  kinds  are  in  use  here.  One  exactly  corre- 
sponds to  our  European  peg-top,  ^  and  is,  like  it,  driven  with 
a  whip,  a  second  has  a  round  or  square  piece  of  gourd  fixed 

1  In  Chinyanja.  Nguli  or  Nanguli. — [Tr.] 


THROWING  WITH   THE  SLING 


288 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


on  a  short,  stout  wooden  peg  as  axis  of  rotation  ;  ^  a  third  is 
similar  to  the  last,  but  has  a  second  disc  under  the  first  (which 
is  about  the  size  of  a  five-shilling  piece),  in  order  to  place  the 
centre  of  gravity  higher  up.  Finally,  we  have  a  very  compli- 
cated mechanism  whose  action  resembles  that  of  our  humming- 
top.    The  second  and  third  require  no  whip,  but  are  spun  with  the 

thumb  and  middle 
finger.  The  fourth, 
on  the  other  hand, 
needs  a  "  frame  " 
to  spin  it.  This 
is  represented  by  a 
piece  of  maize-cob 
perforated  length- 
wise,  through 
which  the  string 
wound  round  the 
top  is  quickly 
pulled  back.  Like 
many  other  things, 
the  art  of  spinning 
tops  is  not  made 
easy  for  native 
boys,  the  soft, 
sandy  ground 
being  ill-suited  to 
this  game ;  yet  the 

With  one  exception,  children  have  no  musical  instruments 
peculiar  to  themselves.  Whether  they  fiddle  on  the  sese,  the 
one-stringed  violin,  or  maltreat  the  ulimba,  that  instrument 
on  which  all  Africans  strum — the  box  with  wooden  or  iron  keys 
fixed  to  its  surface,  and  struck  with  the  finger-tips — or  strike 
the  mgoromondo,  that  antediluvian  xylophone  in  which  the 
keys  rest  on  a  layer  of  straw,  or  play  on  the  lugombo,  the 

^  This  is  evidently  the  one  called  Nsikwa  in  Chinyanja.  See  Scott, 
Cyclopcedic  Dictionary  of  the  Mang'anja  Language,  p.  465  :  "  A  small 
top  made  of  a  round  piece  of  gourd-shell  with  a  spindle  of  cane  through 
the  middle."  A  game  is  played  with  the  Nsikwa  in  which  the  players 
take  sides,  and  spin  their  tops  so  as  to  knock  down  bits  of  maize-cob 
set  up  by  their  adversaries. — [Tr.] 


SPINNING  A 


little  fellows  show  great  skill  in  it. 


290 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


musical  bow  with  calabash  resonator,  which  is  so  widely 
distributed  over  East  and  South  Africa— in  every  case  the 
instruments  are  only  clumsy  imitations  of  those  used  by 
grown-up  people.  The  only  one  whose  use  is  confined  to  the 
young  is  the  natuva — a  friction-drum,  made  from  a  bottle- 
gourd  or  the  fruit  of  the  baobab,  cut  across  and  covered  in, 
like  a  drum,  with  the  skin  of  some  small  animal.    A  blade 


XYLOPHONE  (MGOROMOXDO) 


of  grass  passes  through  the  middle  of  the  diaphragm,  and  thence 
down  through  the  bottom  of  the  shell.  By  rubbing  a  wetted 
thumb  and  forefinger  down  the  stalk,  as  the  little  wretches 
are  perpetually  doing,  a  noise  is  produced  so  excruciating 
that  even  my  carriers — who  are  not  precisely  sufferers  from 
nerves — take  to  flight  when  they  hear  it.  But  3^oung  people 
are  not  only  capable  of  preserving  ancient  survivals  in  culture 
through  thousands  of  years,  but  also  have  the  advantage  of 
a  greater  receptivity  for  novelties.  I  have  in  my  collection 
two  charming  specimens  of  an  African  telephone,  consisting 
of  two  miniature  drums,  beautifully  carved  and  covered  with 
the  delicate  skin  of  some  small  animal,  perforated  in  the 
middle  to  allow  the  passage  of  a  thin  string,  which  is  kept 
from  slipping  through  by  a  knot  on  the  inside  of  the  skin. 
I  never  thought,  at  first,  of  taking  this  thing  seriously,  but 
one  day,  having  a  spare  quarter  of  an  hour,  I  put  one  of  the 
drums  into  Knudsen's  hand,  and  told  him  to  walk  away  till 


A  NATIVE  TELEPHONE  (?) 


291 


the  string — about  a  hundred  yards  in 
length — was  stretched  tight.  I  held 
the  membrane  to  my  ear,  and  heard 
quite  clearly,  "  Good-day,  Professor. 
Can  you  hear  me  ?  "  So  the  thing 
really  acts,  and  all  that  remains  for 
us  to  do  is  to  develop  it  and  boldly 
link  ourselves  up  with  the  coast  and 
that  centre  of  civiliza- 
tion, Lindi  !  ^  There 
can  be  no  question  of 
independent  invention 
in  this  case  ;  the  tele- 
phone is  undoubtedly 
borrowed — but  the  fact 
of  the  borrowing,  and  the 
way  it  is  applied  by  children 
are  not  without  interest. 

Such  an  important  epoch 
in  native  life  as  that  repre- 
sented by  the  unyago,  with 
all  its  joys  and  woes,  its 
games  and  dances,  cannot  be 
without  influence  on  the 
habits  of  the  3'oung  people, 
even  before  it  arrives.  Thus 

I  have  some  ipivi  flutes  obtained  from  httle  fellows  far 
too  young  to  be  admitted  to  the  mysteries.  Anyone 
who  wishes  to  excel  in  an  art  must  begin  his  training 
early,  and  the  flute  players  of  the  ndagala  practise  their 
instrument  for  years  beforehand.  Moreover,  boys, 
who  had  evidently  not  yet  passed  through  the  unyago, 
have  more  than  once  brought  me  specimens  of  the 
kakale,  the  long  sticks,  painted  black  and  white  in 
alternate  rings  with  a  little  trophy  at  the  top, 
consisting  of  the  shell  of  some  fruit  with  a  plume 


PLAYING   THE  .\\4  7iK.4 


XATURA 

(friction- 
drum) 


1  The  articles  figured  look  like   bull-roarers,   which  no 
doubt  might  be  put  to  the  use  indicated,  by  a  native  who  had 
seen  the  telephone  at  Lindi.    But  we  take  leave  to  doubt 
their  being  originally  made  for  such  a  purpose. — Tr. 


292 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


of  feathers  stuck  in  it..  These  two  insignia  of  maturity, 
therefore,  are  also  found  in  the  capacity  of  toys.  There  is 
nothing  surprising  in  this  so  far  as  the  boys  are  concerned, 
for  the  native  has  no  secrets  from  them.  At  the  ceremonies 
I  witnessed  at  Achikomu,  as  well  as  at 
Niuchi  and  Mangupa,  there  was  always 
a  whole  troop  of  little  fellows,  covered 


with  dirt  and  ashes,  running  about. 
Strangely  enough,  there  were  never  any 
half-grown  girls  to  be  seen  on  these 
occasions  ;  everything  relating  to  the 
mysteries  seems  to  be  carefully  kept 
secret  from  them.  It  was  only  during 
my  long  residence  at  Newala,  with  its 
possibilities  of  free  intercourse  between 
me  and  the  different  tribes,  as  well  as 
among  natives  of  different  ages,  that  I 
could  see  and  photograph  any  of  these 
young  things.  They  seem  to  be  brought 
up  much  more  within  the  walls  of  the 
hut  and  its  compound  than  we  are 
accustomed  to  suppose  ;  and  even  in 
the  hundreds  of  visits  I  have  paid 
to  native  homes,  I  have  seldom  been 
able  to  see  the  young  daughters  of  the 
house  face  to  face.  As  a  rule,  I  only 
caught  sight  of  a  slender  little  figure 
retreating  swiftly  through  the  back  door  of  the  hut. 

Under  these  circumstances,  of  course,  I  cannot  say  how 
the  little  native  girl  actually  grows  up,  and  whether  she  enjoys 
anything  even  faintly  resembling  the  happy  childhood  of  our 
own  loved  ones— but  nothing  leads  us  to  suppose  that  she  does  ; 
though  there  is  no  question  that  the  native  shares  in  the 
universal  instinct  which  inspires  all  parents  with  affection  for 
their  offspring  ;  he  feeds  his  children  and  protects  them  when 
they  need  protection  ;  he  rejoices  when  they  thrive  and  mourns 
over  their  illness  and  death.  I  can  still  see  Matola,  as  he  came 


UNASIKIA  !  ;  "  DO  YOU 
HEAR  ?  " 


A  LITTLE  SUFFERER 


293 


to  me  one  day — his  usual  expression  of  gentle  melancholy 
heightened  to  one  of  deep  grief  and  anxiety — carrying  a  httle 
girl  of  some  five  or  six  years.  She  was  not  even  his  own  child, 
but  a  relative,  for  whom  he  entreated  my  help.  To  my 
sincere  regret,  it  was  impossible  for 
me  to  do  anything — the  poor  little 
thing  was  suffering  from  a  malig- 


nant gangrene,  which  had  eaten 
away  the  whole  front  of  one  thigh, 
so  that  the  tendons  were  laid  bare 
and  the  bones  were  beginning  to 
bend.  I  spoke  very  seriously  to 
Matola,  asking  whether  he  were 
as  much  of  a  mshenzi  as  his  people, 
who  were  perishing  through  their 
own  stupidity  and  apathy.  He, 
the  headman,  and 
a  clever  man  at 
that,  knew  very 
well,  so  I  told  him, 
that  there  were 
German  doctors  at 
Lindi,  who  could 
cure  even  such  cases 
as    this,     if  the 

.XD/O:  "YES 

patients  were 

brought  to  them.  He  ought  therefore,  to  send 
the  child  down  at  once,  unless  he  wished  her 
to  die,  as  all  her  elder  brothers  and  sisters  had 
done. 

Matola  gazed  at  me  for  some  time,  evidently 
wavering  between  hope  and  doubt  but  in 
the  end  he  followed  my  advice  ;  and  I  have 
since  heard  that  the  child  is  well  on  the  way  to 
recovery.  But  it  is  astonishing  and  perplexing 
xATivF  ^^^^  ^^^^  enlightened  man  as  the  chief  of 
TELEPHONE       Chingulungulu  should  have  allowed  the  disease 


294 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


to  go  on  so  long  before  taking  any  serious  steps  to  obtain 
assistance.  What  then  could  be  expected  of  a  man  from 
the  bush,  who  consulted  me  immediately  after  my  arrival, 
asking  me  for  medicine  for  his  sick  child  ? 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  your  child  ?  " 

"  A  wound  on  her  foot." 

"  But,  my  good  man,"  I  said,  "  I  can't  give  you  medicine 
to  take  home, — you  would  not  know  how  to  put  it  on.  You 
must  bring  your  child  here.    Where  do  you  live  ?  " 

"  Mhali — a  long  way  off — Bwana,"  he  answers,  lengthening 
the  vowel  to  signify  inexpressible  distance. 

"  How  far  ?  " 

"  Well— about  two  hours." 

"Oh!  you  call  that  far,  do  you?  you  mshenzi  !  if  you 
were  going  to  a  beer-drink,  twenty  hours  would  be  karihu 
Sana.  Off  with  you  now,  and  come  back  at  eight  to-morrow 
morning."  But  neither  at  eight  nor  at  any  later  hour  was  there 
any  sign  of  the  noble  father  from  the  Makonde  bush.  It 
was  not  till  the  fifteenth  day  after  the  preliminary  consulta- 
tion that  he  appeared,  bringing  with  him  a  little  girl  of  five 
or  six.  I  did  not  at  first  remember  him,  but  at  once  recalled  his 
previous  visit  when  the  child,  overcoming  her  natural  shyness, 
held  out  her  foot.  Nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  a  horrible 
mass  of  dirt  and  sand  cemented  together  with  blood.  I 
started  at  once  on  the  cleansing  process,  with  the  help  of 
Stamburi,  my  trusty  hospital  orderly ;  and  when  at  last  the 
foot  was  laid  bare,  we  found  that  the  whole  ball  was  eaten 
away  to  the  bone — whether  owing  to  jiggers,  or  through  the 
cumulative  effect  of  various  other  circumstances,  my  medical 
knowledge  is  insufficient  to  decide.  When  at  last  I  glanced  at 
the  father,  I  saw  him  staring  like  one  hypnotized  at  a  leg  of 
antelope  intended  for  the  next  day's  dinner,  which  Knudsen 
had  hung  up  just  over  my  table.  Having  recalled  him  to 
reality,  I  bade  Moritz  give  him  the  softest  part  from  the  skin 
of  a  recently  killed  wild  pig,  and  told  him  to  make  a  shoe,  or 
at  least  a  sandal  such  as  are  certainly  not  unknown  in  this 
country,  as  he  must  see  for  himself  that  the  child  could  not 
walk  through  the  dirty  sand  with  her  freshly-bandaged  foot. 
He  had  his  knife  with  him — let  him  get  to  work  without  delay  ! 
We  two  practitioners  devoted  ourselves  once  more  to  the 


TRAINING  IN  PARENTAL  DUTIES  295 


treatment  of  the  wound,  which  was  in  truth  a  terrible  one  ; 
and  in  a  Httle  while  the  bandage  was  put  on  as  correctly  as 
we  knew  how.  A  second  look  at  the  father  showed  that  he 
was  still  staring  at  the  raw  joint,  as  intently  as  if  he  had  really 
eaten  his  way  into  it.  It  is  a  good  thing,  after  all,  in  such 
cases,  to  have  the  kihoko  within  reach.  In  another  quarter 
of  an  hour  the  well-wrapped  foot  was  protected  by  a  very 
serviceable  pigskin  shpper.    But  that  is  the  last  I  ever  saw 


MAKONDE  CHILDREN 

"or  heard  of  the  gentleman,  and  he  never  so  much  as  thanked 
me  either  for  the  treatment  or  for  the  thrashing. 

Boys  and  girls,  as  a  rule,  reach  the  age  of  eight  or  nine,  per- 
haps ten,  before  any  event  of  importance  interrupts  the  even 
tenor  of  their  lives.  Then  the  assembly  of  the  men,  which 
when  the  harvest  is  over,  meets  daily  in  the  baraza,  decides 
where  the  unyago  is  to  be  celebrated  in  the  current  year.  Since 
all  the  adjacent  districts  have  now  taken  their  turn  in  bearing 
the  expense  of  the  ceremony,  it  is  a  point  of  honour  that  our 
village  should  invite  them  this  time.  The  resolution  is  soon 
carried  into  effect  ;  the  moon  is  already  on  the  wane,  and  the 
celebration  must  take  place  before  the  new  moon.  The  unyago 
presents  exactly  the  same  features  in  all  the  tribes  of  this  region. 
The  men  erect  a  circle — larger  or  smaller  as  circumstances  may 


296 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


require — of  simple  grass  huts  iu  au  open  space  near  the  village. 
In  this  space  the  opening  and  closing  ceremonies  are  performed  ; 
the  huts  are  intended  for  the  candidates  to  live  and  sleep  in. 
Such  an  arena,  with  all  its  appurtenances  in  excellent  preserva- 
tion, was  the  circle  of  something  over  fifty  yards'  diameter 
which  I  was  enabled  to  photograph  when  visiting  the  echiputu 
at  Akuchikomu.  The  charred  remains  of  a  similar  lisakasa, 
as  the  system  of  huts  is  called  in  Yao,  were  to  be  seen  near  the 


MASEWE   DAXCE   OF  THE   MAKUAS   IX   THE   BOMA  AT  NEWALA 


road  on  this  side  of  Akundonde's — the  relics  of  a  former 
festival. 

It  is  inherent  in  the  nature  of  the  whole  institution  that 
both  boys  and  girls  should  be  passive  throughout.  They  sit 
silent,  inactive  and  motionless  in  their  huts  while,  on  the  first 
night  of  the  festival,  the  grown-ups  feast  and  drink  and  enjoy 
themselves  in  the  wild  masewe  dance.  Next  day  the  boys, 
each  one  in  charge  of  his  instructor,  are  conducted  to  the  bush 
by  the  chief  director.  There  they  sleep  one  night  without 
any  shelter  whatever.  For  a  short  time,  on  the  following 
day,  they  may  do  as  they  please,  but  during  the  remainder 
they  have  to  set  to  w^ork  with  their  ananmngwi  (teachers) 
and  build  the  ndagala.  As  soon  as  this  airy  construction  is 
finished,  one  after  another  of  the  boys  is  laid  on  a  very 


THE  KAKALE  PROCESSION 


297 


primitive  couch  of  millet-straw,  and  the  jua  michila  performs  the 
operation.  For  weeks  the  httle  patients  lie  there  in  a  row, 
unable  to  do  anything  to  accelerate  the  slow  process  of  healing. 
Not  till  this  is  complete  and  the  subsequent  moral  and  other 
instruction  has  begun  do  the  wari,  as  the  boys  are  now  called, 
acquire  the  right  to  take  part  in  public  life.  In  the  high 
spirits  engendered  by  the  pride  of  their  new  position,  they 
indulge  in  many  a  mad  freak.  Woe  to  the  unhappy  woman 
or  girl  who,  ignorant  of  the  situation  of  the  ndagala,  strays 
into  this  region  of  the  bush.  Like  a  troop  of  mischievous 
imps,  the  boys  rush  on  her,  tease  her,  perhaps  even  tie  her 
up  and  ill-use  her.  According  to  tribal  custom,  they  are 
quite  within  their  rights  in  so  doing,  for  their  abode  in  the 
bush  is  supposed  to  be  utterly  unknown  to  women.  When 
he  goes  out  into  the  port  the  boy  is  dead  to  his  mother, — 
when  he  returns,  he  will  be  a  different  person  with  a  new 
name,  and  nothing  to  connect  him  with  his  former  relationship. 

I  have  already  tried  to  describe  the  course  taken  b}^  the 
instruction  imparted  in  the  ndagala.  Old  Akundonde  and  his 
councillor,  in  the  candour  induced  by  their  libations,  were 
certainly  trustworthy  informants  in  this  respect.  It  is  an 
irreparable  misfortune  that  the  liquor  supply  coming  to  an 
end  when  it  did  (in  such  a  surprisingly  short  time)  deprived 
me  of  the  conclusion  of  the  address  to  the  wan,  but  the  fragment 
already  given  is  quite  sufficient  to  indicate  the  character  of  the 
teaching. 

•The  lupanda  reaches  its  culminating  point  only  with  the 
closing  ceremony.  The  preparations  on  both  sides  are  exten- 
sive :  in  the  bush  the  wari  are  being  restored  by  their  mentors 
by  means  of  head-shaving,  baths,  anointing  with  oil,  and  a 
supply  of  new  cloth,  to  a  condition  worthy  of  human  beings. 
In  the  village,  meanwhile,  the  mothers,  long  before  the  time 
fixed,  have  been  brewing  large  quantities  of  beer  and  preparing 
still  larger  piles  of  food  for  the  festivity.  When  the  great  day 
at  last  arrives,  the  boys  come  back  in  procession,  in  their 
clean  new  garments,  with  their  faces,  necks,  and  freshly-shorn 
scalps  all  shining  with  oil,  and  carrying  in  their  right  hands 
the  kakale,  the  sticks  headed  with  rattles  which  have  already 
been  described.  ]\Ien  and  women  line  the  road  in  joyful 
expectation.    Ever  louder  and  more  piercingly,  the  "  lu-lu-lu  ' 


298 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


of  the  women  vibrates  across  the  arena,  and  yonder  the  drums 
strike  up  with  their  inspiriting  rhythm,  while  the  hoarse 
throats  of  the  men  utter  the  first  notes  of  a  ng'oma  song.  In 
short,  everything  is  going  on  in  the  most  satisfactory  and 
genuinely  African  w^ay. 

The  Africans,  being  human,  like  ourselves,  it  is  only  to  be 
expected  that  all  their  works  and  ways  are  subject  to  as  many 


k'AKAl.F.  PROCESSION   OX   THE   LAST  DAY  OF  THE  LWYAGO 

changes  and  inconsistencies  as  our  own.  I  have  devoted  a 
disproportionate  part  of  the  time  (over  a  month)  spent  at 
Newala  to  the  task  of  fixing  the  typical  course  of  all  these 
ceremonies.  This  has  been  a  most  severe  labour,  for  if,  in 
my  wish  to  obtain  unimpeachably  accurate  results,  I  arranged 
to  let  my  informants  of  each  tribe  come  separately,  I  might  be 
sure  that  the  two  or  three  old  men  who  made  their  appearance 
would -say  little  or  nothing.  The  native  intellect  seems  not  to 
become  active  till  awakened  and  stimulated  by  sharp  retort 
and  rejoinder  in  a  numerous  circle  of  men.  I  have  thus  been 
compelled  to  go  back  again  and  again  to  my  original  method 
of  assembling  the  whole  senate  of  "  those  who  know,"  some 
fifteen  aged  Yaos,  Makua  and  Makonde  in  a  heterogeneous 
crowd  round  my  feet.  This  was  so  far  successful  as  to  produce 
a  lively  discussion  every  time,  but  it  becomes  very  difiicult 
to  distinguish  between  the  elements  belonging  to  different 
tribes.     Yet    I    venture    to    think    that,    with    a  great 


UNYAGO  OF  THE  YAOS,  MAKONDE  AND  MAKUA  299 


deal  of  luck,  and  some  little  skill,  I  have  succeeded  so 
far  as  to  get  a  general  outline  of  these  matters.  I  feel 
quite  easy  in  my  mind  at  leaving  to  my  successors  the  task 
of  filling  up  the  gaps  and  correcting  the  inaccuracies  which 
no  doubt  exist. 

Further,  it  must  be  remembered  that  my  notes  on  the 
initiation  ceremonies  of  these  three  tribes  would,  if  given  in 
full,  take  up  far  too  much  space  to  allow  of  their  reproduction 
here.  Two  other  points  must  be  borne  in  mind.  What  I 
saw  with  my  own  eyes  of  the  unyago,  I  have  here  related  in 
full,  with  that  local  colouring  of  which  actual  experience  alone 
enables  a  writer  to  render  the  effect.  But  those  scenes  at 
Achikomu,  Niuchi  and  Mangupa  are  only  tiny  fractions 
of  the  very  extensive  fasti  represented  by  the  girls'  unyago  in 
reality  ;  while,  as  to  the  remainder,  I  can  only  repeat  what  I 
have  heard  from  my  informants.  Quotations,  however,  always 
produce  an  impression  of  dryness  and  tedium,  which  is  what 
I  would  seek  to  avoid  at  any  price.  I  therefore  think  it  better 
to  refer  those  interested  in  the  details  of  such  things  to  the 
larger  work  in  which  it  will  be  m}^  duty,  according  to  agreement, 
to  report  to  the  Colonial  Office  on  my  doings  in  Africa  and 
their  scientific  results. 

The  last  point  belongs  to  another  department.  The  negro 
is  not  in  the  least  sophisticated  as  regards  the  relation  between 
the  sexes.  Everything  pertaining  to  it  seems  to  him  something 
quite  natural,  about  which  his  people  are  accustomed  to 
speak  quite  freely  among  themselves, — only  in  extreme  cases 
showing  a  certain  reticence  before  members  of  the  alien  white 
race.  Now  the  part  played  by  sex  in  the  life  of  the  African 
is  ver}^  great,  incomparably  greater  than  with  us.  It  would  be 
too  much  to  say  that  all  his  thoughts  and  desires  revolve 
round  this  point,  but  a  very  large  proportion  thereof  is  un- 
doubtedly concerned  with  it.  This  is  shown  in  the  clearest 
way,  not  only  in  the  unyago  itself,  but  in  the  representation 
which  I  subsequently  witnessed.  In  the  present  state  of 
opinion  resulting  from  the  popular  system  of  education,  such 
delicate  matters  can  only  be  treated  in  the  most  strictly 
scientific  publications,  being  debarred  from  reproduction  in 
a  book  of  any  other  character.  This  is  necessary — I  must 
once  more  emphasize  the  fact, — not  on  account  of  the  subject 


300  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


itself,  but  out  of  consideration  for  the  misguided  feelings  of 
the  public.    It  may  be  regrettable,  but  it  is  true. 

Of  all  the  tribes  in  the  South  of  German  East  Africa,  the 
Yaos  seem  to  be,  not  only  the  most  progressive,  but  the  most 
prosaic  and  unimaginative,  and  in  fact  their  initiation  cere- 
monies are  very  simple,  compared  with  those  of  the  Makonde 
and  Makua.  Those  of  the  latter  have  to  a  certain  extent 
a  dramatic  character.  The  Makua  choose  a  branch  of  a 
particular  shape,  and  forked  several  times,  which  they  plant 
in  the  midst  of  the  open  space  where  the  festival  is  held.  This 
is  fetched  from  the  bush  by  the  men,  who,  singing  a  certain 
song,  carry  it  in  procession  into  the  arena,  where  the  director  of 
the  mysteries  stands,  in  the  attitude  of  a  sacrificing  priest. 
He  now  kills  a  fowl,  the  blood  of  which  is  caught  in  a  bowl, 
while  some  charcoal  is  pounded  to  powder  in  a  second  vessel, 
and  some  red  clay  crushed  in  a  third — the  branch  is  then 
encircled  with  a  triple  band  of  the  three  substances — red, 
black,  and  red.  Meanwhile  some  men  have  been  digging  a 
hole,  in  which  is  laid  a  charm  made  out  of  pieces  of  bark  tied 
together.  The  hole  is  then  filled  up  and  the  earth  heaped  over 
it  in  a  mound  on  which  the  forked  branch,  called  lupanda,  is 
planted.  A  second  mound  is  then  made,  which,  as  well  as 
the  first,  was  still  clearly  recognizable  in  the  ring  of  huts  at 
Akundonde's.  This  second  mound  is  the  seat  for  the  unyago 
boy  who  is  considered  of  highest  rank,  the  others  being 
grouped  around  him,  on  stumps,  which,  if  the  director  of  the 
proceedings  has  the  shghtest  sense  of  beauty,  are  arranged  in 
two  regular,  concentric  circles  similar  to  those  which  I  saw  in 
the  bush  near  Chingulungulu.  "  The  cromlech  of  the  tropics  !  " 
was  the  idea  which  occurred  to  me  at  the  time,  and  even  now 
I  cannot  resist  the  impression  that  this  arrangement  of  tree- 
stumps  resembles  our  prehistoric  stone  circles,  not  only  in 
form  but  perhaps  also  in  the  object  for  which  it  is  designed. 
If  our  Neolithic  megaliths  were,  really  used  by  assemblies  for 
ritual  purposes,  there  seems  no  reason  why  these  venerable 
stones  should  not  have  served  as  seats  for  our  ancestors.  The 
negro,  too,  would  no  doubt  dispense  with  wooden  seats,  if 
stone  ones  had  been  obtainable  in  his  country. 

If  I  were  at  all  given  to  imaginative  speculations,  I  could 
easily  prove  that  the   Makonde  are  fire- worshippers.  As 


A  MAKONDE  CEREMONY 


301 


soon  as  the  men  have  built  the  likumhi,  i.e.,  a  hut  of  the  kind 
we  saw  at  Mangupa,  all  scatter  to  look  for  medicine  in  the 
bush.  In  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  they  give  the  roots 
they  have  collected  to  an  old  woman  who  pounds  them  in  a 
mortar.  The  resulting  paste  is  dabbed  in  spots  on  the  arms 
of  some  five  or  six  men  by  the  high  priest  or  doctor.  When 
this  is  done  all  sit  inactive  till  midnight,  when  the  nmnchira 
(doctor)  begins  to  beat  his  drum.  As  the  deep  sound  of  this 
instrument  thunders  out  through  the  dark  tropical  night, 
all  the  people,  adults  and  children,  stream  out  of  the  huts, 
and  dancing  and  gun-firing  are  kept  up  till  the  following 
afternoon,  when  they  distribute  presents  to  each  other  and 
to  the  boys'  instructor.  Thereupon  the  munchira  delivers 
an  address.  The  six  men  above  referred  to  are,  he  says, 
sacred  ;  if  they  should  take  it  into  their  heads  to  steal,  or 
commit  violent  assaults,  or  interfere  with  their  neighbours' 
wives,  no  one  must  do  anything  to  them,  their  persons  are 
inviolable.  The  six,  for  their  part,  are  now  informed  by  him 
that  it  is  their  duty  to  beat  the  drum  at  midnight  for  the  next 
three  months. 

When  the  three  months  are  ended,  the  village  is  all  stir 
and  bustle.  Men  go  into  the  bush  to  collect  dead  wood,  and 
in  the  evening  carry  it  in  perfect  silence  to  the  open  space 
near  the  likumbi  hut.  The  women,  meanwhile,  have  been 
preparing  enormous  quantities  of  beer,  which  also  finds  its 
way  to  the  likumbi.  In  this  hut  stands  a  small  round  covered 
basket  (chihero),  containing  medicines,  into  which  (and  on  the 
medicines)  every  one  of  the  wood-gatherers  spits  out  a  little 
of  the  specially  prepared  beer.  Beside  the  chihero  stands 
the  old  woman  who  pounded  the  medicines  in  the  mortar, 
who  then  puts  the  basket  on  her  head,  seizes  in  one  hand  the 
end  of  a  w^hole  piece  of  cahco,  specially  bought  for  the  cere- 
mony, and  leaves  the  hut  with  a  slow  and  solemn  step,  drag- 
ging the  cloth  behind  her.  The  first  of  the  wood-gatherers 
q-uickly  takes  hold  of  it,  so  as  not  to  let  it  touch  the  ground; 
as  it  unrolls  from  the  bale  a  second  takes  it,  then  a  third,  and 
a  fourth,  till  at  last  it  passes  along  a  little  above  the  ground, 
like  a  train  borne  by  pages.  The  7nunchira  walks  in  front 
next  to  the  woman,  and  they  circumambulate  the  likumbi, 
after  which  the  munchira  takes  the  end  of  the  cahco  and  wraps 


302 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


it  round  the  chihero.  This  he  then  holds  to  his  right  ear  ; 
after  a  short  pause,  he  phices  it  on  his  shoulder,  again  keeping 
it  there  for  a  few  moments  ;  then  it  is  lowered  to  the  hip,  the 
knee,  and  finally  to  the  outside  of  the  ankle.  At  the  close 
of  the  ceremony  the  venerable  man  takes  both  cloth  and 
chihero  as  his  well-earned  fee. 

Again  it  is  night — the  outhne  of  the  great  wood-pile  is  just 
recognizable  in  the  faint  light.  About  an  hour  after  midnight, 
a  tall,  gaunt  figure  rises  from  the  circle  of  prostrate  figures 
wrapped  in  their  sleeping-mats.  Silently  it  glides  up  to  the 
pile,  a  little  flame  flashes  up,  to  disappear  again  ;  but  soon 
there  is  a  fresh  crackling  ;  the  flame,  in  the  draught  produced 
by  the  rhythmic  pulsations  of  a  fan,  grows  and  strengthens. 
Now  we  recognize  the  figure — it  is  that  of  the  munchira.  In 
a  few^  minutes  the  whole  large  pile  is  a  sheet  of  flame,  its 
flickering,  quivering  lights  dancing  on  the  shining  faces  of  the 
men  standing  round  in  a  circle.  The  fire  having  now  burnt  up 
brightly,  the  munchira  walks  quickly  round  it,  and,  his  face 
turned  to  the  pile,  utters  the  following  words  : — "  Let  the 
wounds  of  the  boys  heal  soon  and  painlessly,  and  let  the  chief 
who  is  keeping  the  likumhi  this  year  find  the  boys  do  him 
credit  in  after  life."  At  the  same  time  he  ties  a  white  rag 
to  a  pole,  and  fans  the  fire  with  powerful  strokes.  The  men 
remain  standing  round  it,  watching  it  as  it  dies  down,  till 
broad  daylight. 

Fire,  as  the  central  point  in  a  ceremony  which  cuts  so  deeply 
into  social  life  as  do  the  celebrations  of  puberty  among  these 
tribes,  is  so  far  as  I  know^  quite  an  isolated  phenomenon  among 
the  peoples  of  Africa.  Have  we  here  a  case  of  genuine  fire- 
worship,  or  are  the  walk  round  the  fire  and  the  address  to  it 
only  the  last  unconscious  survivals  of  a  cult  prevalent  in 
ancient  times  ?  I  do  not  know,  and,  to  speak  frankly,  cannot 
even  say  where  the  answer  to  this  question  may  be  looked  for. 
We  must  not  a  priori  assume  it  to  be  impossible  that  the 
Makonde  should  once  have  been  fire-worshippers  ;  we  know 
far  too  little  as  yet  of  their  social  evolution.  The  abundant 
results  of  my  inquiries  up  to  this  point  are  the  best  proof  that 
unexpected  discoveries  are  yet  in  store  for  us. 

In  the  male  sex  the  transition  from  childhood  to  the  status 
of  fully-qualified  maturity  is  a  single,  definite  process,  though 


304 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


extending  over  a  long  period.  The  memory  of  rejoicings 
and  sufferings  experienced  in  common  is  preserved  henceforth 
among  the  men  by  means  of  a  free,  voluntary  association 
known  as  the  "  age-class."  All  those  who  have  passed  through 
the  unyago  in  the  same  year  stand  by  each  other  till  death 
severs  the  connection.  This  connection,  however,  must  be 
thought  of  in  terms  of  African  conditions ;  there  is  no  society 
or  club,  or  the  like,  and  the  sole  obligation  incurred  by 
the  old  friends  is  that  every  one  of  them  is  bound  to  offer 
hospitality  to  any  of  the  others  who  may  come  to  his  village. 
Secret  societies  no  longer  consciously  influence  the  character 
of  the  age-classes  here  in  the  East,  though  the  reverse  is  the 
case  in  West  Africa  where  the  two  things  go  hand  in  hand, 
acting  and  reacting  on  each  other  as  cause  and  effect,  and 
both  finding  their  common  outward  expression  in  great 
festivals  with  masked  dances  and  other  mysterious  accessories 
calculated  to  terrify  the  women  and  the  uninitiated  men. 
Here  on  the  Makonde  plateau,  the  three  phenomena — the  age- 
classes,  the  festivals  and  the  masked  dances — are  at  the  present 
day  not  very  closely  connected  together  ;  yet  everything  leads 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  masked  dance  now  in  use  among 
the  Makonde  was  originally  the  outcome  of  a  long-forgotten 
system  of  secret  societies,  similar  to  the  quite  analogous 
institutions  of  Kamerun,  Upper  Guinea,  and  Loango.  There 
is  many  a  knotty  problem  yet  to  be  solved  in  this  department 
of  African  ethnography. 

The  girls'  unyago  is  a  graduated  series  of  courses  of  instruc- 
tion. I  have  purposely  emphasized  the  word  instruction, 
as  there  is  nothing  here  in  the  nature  of  a  surgical  operation, 
with  a  single  exception  in  the  case  of  the  Makua.  In  all  the 
tribes  each  girl  is  given  for  the  whole  period  of  the  unyago  into 
the  charge  of  a  special  teacher,  who  remains  her  friend  through 
life.  Under  the  guidance  of  these  older  women,  the  novices 
in  the  first  place  go  through  a  curriculum  very  much  resembling 
that  of  the  boys.  The  children  are  unreservedly  enlightened 
as  to  all  sexual  relations,  and  have  to  learn  everything  connected 
with  married  life.  They  are  also  taught  all  the  rules  which 
govern  intercourse  between  members  of  the  same  tribe,  and 
above  all  of  the  same  family. 

There  is  an  opening  and  a  closing  ceremony  for  this  first 


MARRIAGE  CUSTOMS 


305 


course  of  the  girls'  initiation.  I  was  able  personally  to  observe 
the  revels  which  take  place  on  such  occasions,  at  all  three  of 
the  places  where  I  had  the  opportunity  of  making  the  chiputu 
(or  echiputu)  illustrious  by  my  presence.  The  phenomenal  thirst 
shown  is  quite  explained  by  the  amount  of  dancing  gone  through. 
After  the  mysteries,  both  boys  and  girls  in  due  course 


WOMAN  OF  THE   MAKONDE  TRIBE 


become  marriageable,  but  I  have  not  succeeded  in  ascertaining, 
even  approximately,  the  age  at  which  this  is  the  case.  Indi- 
viduals are  always  out  of  measure  astonished  when  asked 
their  age,  and  their  relatives  are  profoundly  indifferent  on  the 
subject.  In  general,  rnarriage  takes  place  very  early,  as  is 
proved  by  the  very  young  mothers  who  may  be  seen  in  any 
large  assemblage  of  people,  and  who  are  mostly  no  further 
developed  than  German  girls  at  their  confirmation.  Matola 
tells  me  that  the  form  of  marriage  known  as  masange  was 
formerly  very  prevalent,  in  which  young  children  of  from 
five  to  seven  were  united,  huts  being  built  for  them  to  live  in. 
This  custom  is  said  still  to  be  practised  occasionally.  ^  The 

^  The  Rev.  Dr.  Hetherwick  says  that  masange  is  "a  game  played  by  chil- 
dren in  which  they  build  mimic  houses  and  act  as  grown-up  people."  [Tr. 

20— (2I3I) 


306 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


same  informant  states  that  it  is  very  common  for  one  woman, 
who  has  just  had  a  child  to  say  to  a  neighbour  expecting  a 
hke  event,  "  I  have  a  son — if  you  have  a  daughter,  let  him 
marry  her  "  ;  and  this,  in  due  course,  is  done. 

The  African  native  is  a  peasant,  not  only  in  his  avocation, 
but  in  the  way  in  which  he  sets  about  his  courting.  In  no 
other  department  is  his  mental  kinship  with  our  own  rustics 
so  startlingly  shown.  To  express  it  briefly  :  the  native  youth 
in  love  is  too  shy  to  venture  a  bold  stroke  for  his  happiness 
in  person  ;  he  requires  a  go-between  quite  in  the  style  of 
our  own  rural  candidates  for  matrimony.  This  office  is  usually 
undertaken  by  his  own  father,  who,  under  some  pretext 
or  other,  calls  on  the  parents  of  the  bride-elect,  and  in  the 
course  of  conversation  touches  on  his  son's  projects.  If  the 
other  side  are  willing  to  entertain  the  proposition,  the  negotia- 
tions are  soon  brought  to  a  satisfactory  conclusion — that  is 
to  say,  if  the  maid,  too,  is  willing.  Girls  are  not  in  reality 
so  passive  in  the  matter  as  we  are  apt  to  assume,  but  most 
certainly  expect  to  have  their  wishes  consulted  ;  and  many 
a  carefully-planned  match  has  come  to  nothing  merely  because 
the  girl  loved  another  man.  In  this  respect  there  is  not  the 
slightest  difference  between  white  and  black.  Of  course,  not 
—  every  native  girl  is  a  heroine  of  constancy  and  steadfastness ; 
here  and  there  one  lets  herself  be  persuaded  to  accept,  instead 
of  the  young  man  she  loves  in  secret,  an  elderly  wooer  who  is 
indifferent  to  her,  but  in  that  case  she  runs  the  risk  of  incurring 
— as  happens  elsewhere — the  ridicule  of  her  companions.  The 
old  bridegroom,  moreover,  may  be  pretty  certain  that  he  will 
not  enjoy  a  monopoly  of  his  young  wife's  society. 

Marriage  is  a  matter  of  business,  thinks  the  African,  quite 
consistently  with  his  general  character,  and  the  contract  is  only 
looked  upon  as  concluded  when  the  tw^o  fathers  have  come 
to  an  agreement  as  to  the  amount  of  the  present  to  be  paid 
by  the  bridegroom.  The  people  here  in  the  south  are  poor— 
they  have  neither  large  herds  of  horned  cattle,  nor  abundance 
of  sheep  and  goats  ;  the  w^hole  purchase — were  it  correct, 
which  it  is  not,  to  call  the  transaction  by  that  name — is  effected 
by  handing  over  a  moderate  quantity  of  cahco. 

Much  more  interesting  from  an  ethnographic  point  of  view 
than  the  Yao  wooing  just  sketched,  are  the  customs  of  the 


KNUDSEN'S  IDYLL 


307 


Makua  and  Makonde.  In  their  case,  too,  negotiations  are 
opened  by  the  fathers ;  but  this  is,  in  reahty,  only  a  skirmish 
of  outposts, — the  main  action  is  afterwards  fought  by  the 
m.others,  each  supported  by  her  eldest  brother,  or  perhaps 
by  all  her  brothers.  The  fact  that  the  matriarchate  is  still 
flourishing  here  explains  the  part  they  take  in  the  matter. 

Nils  Knudsen,  by  the  way,  can  tell  a  pretty  story — of  which 
he  is  himself  the  hero — illustrating  the  constancy  of  native 
girls.  During  the  years  of  his  lonely  life  at  Luisenfelde,  he 
so  completely  adapted  himself  to  native  ways  as  to  take  a 
wife  from  among  the  Wayao.  Even  now,  after  the  lapse  of 
years,  he  never  grew  tired  of  praising  the  virtues  of  this  chipini 
wearer  ; — she  was  pretty,  and  domestic,  and  a  first-rate  cook — 
she  could  make  excellent  ugali,  and  had  all  the  other  good 
qualities  which  go  to  make  up  a  good  housewife  in  the  bush. 
One  day  he  went  off  to  the  Rovuma  on  a  hunting  expedition  ; 
he  was  only  absent  a  few  days,  but  on  his  return  she  had 
disappeared.  On  the  table  lay  a  knotted  piece  of  bark-string. 
He  counted  the  knots  and  found  that  there  were  seventy  ; 
the  meaning  of  the  token,  according  to  the  explanation  given 
by  the  wise  men  of  the  tribe  being  this  : — "  My  kinsfolk  have 
taken  me  away  ;  they  do  not  like  me  to  live  with  the  white 
man,  and  want  me  to  marry  a  black  man  who  lives  far  away 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Rovuma.  But  even  if  I  should  live  as 
many  years  as  there  are  knots  on  this  string,  I  will  not  take 
him,  but  remain  faithful  to  you,  the  white  man."  This  was 
Knudsen's  story,  and  he  added,  with  emotion  not  untouched  by 
the  pride  of  a  man  who  feels  himself  to  be  greatly  sought  after, 
the  further  statement  that  the  girl  was  in  fact  keeping  her  vow. 
She  was  hving  far  away,  in  the  heart  of  the  Portuguese  territory, 
and  near  the  man  for  whom  she  was  destined,  but  even  the 
strongest  pressure  brought  to  bear  by  her  family  could  not 
make  her  give  way.  After  all,  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
faithfulness  in  love. 

The  native  wedding  is  a  very  tame  affair — one  might 
almost  say  that  there  is  no  such  thing.  Betrothal  and 
marriage,  if  we  may  say  so,  coincide  in  point  of  time.  When 
once  the  wooer  has  obtained  the  approval  of  the  rightful  authori- 
ties, there  is  no  further  hindrance  to  the  union  of  the  couple 
than  the  delay  necessary  for  erecting  a  new  hut  for  them.  When 


308  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


this  is  done  and  they  have  taken  up  their  abode  in  it,  the  young 
husband  begins  to  work  for  his  mother-in-law,  in  the  manner 
aforesaid,  which  appears  so  strange  to  our  European  ideas, 
though  we  cannot  deny  that  there  is  room  for  improvement 
in  our  manners  in  this  respect. 

Now,  however,  we  have  to  consider  the  question  of  who 
may  marry  whom,  or,  in  other  words,  the  table  of  forbidden 
degrees.  This  question  has  its  importance  even  in  Europe — 
how  much  more  among  people  so  much  nearer  the  primitive 
conditions  of  society.  If  it  is  for  the  wise  men  of  an  Australian 
tribe  one  of  the  highest  problems  of  social  science  to  determine 
with  absolute  correctness  which  girl  among  the  surrounding 
families  the  young  man  A  may  marry,  and  who  is  eligible  for 
the  young  man  B,  so  neither  are  the  matrimonially  disposed  in 
the  Rovuma  valley  free  to  indulge  their  inclination  in  any 
direction  they  may  choose. 

It  is  late  in  the  afternoon.  In  the  baraza  at  Newala  fifteen 
natives  of  respectable  age  are  squatting,  as  they  have  done  for 
some  weeks  past,  on  the  big  mat.  From  time  to  time  one  of 
these  seniors  rises,  and  leaves  the  building  to  stretch  his  cramped 
legs,  but  always  returns  after  a  short  time.  The  place  is  hot, 
a  fetid  vapour  hangs  over  the  assembly,  so  that  the  European 
in  khaki,  writing  so  assiduously  at  his  folding  table,  presses 
his  hands  again  and  again  to  his  aching  forehead.  The  com- 
pany are  obviously  tired,  but  they  have  to-day  been  occupied 
with  a  very  exhausting  subject.  Hour  after  hour,  I — for  I 
am  the  man  with  the  headache — have  been  trying,  in  the  first 
place,  to  make  clear  to  Nils  Knudsen  the  principles  of  human 
marriage-customs,  of  the  various  tribal  divisions,  of  totemism, 
of  father-right  and  mother-right — in  short,  a  whole  series  of 
points  in  sociology,  but  with  no  very  satisfactory  result,  as 
is  clearly  shown  by  every  question  I  put.  Now  the  task  before 
me  is  to  ehcit  from  the  fifteen  wise  elders,  with  his  help  and 
that  of  the  usually  acute  Sefu,  everything  they  know  on  these 
subjects.  All  my  small  failures  have  made  me  quite  savage, 
besides  wear3ang  me  to  the  point  of  exhaustion  ;  and  it  costs 
me  an  appreciable  effort  to  fling  a  question  into  the  midst  of 
the  learned  assembly. 

"  Well,  old  Dambwala,  lazy  one,  you  have  a  son,  have  you 
not  ?  " 


FORBIDDEN  DEGREES 


309 


"Yes,  sir." 

"  And  you,  Nantiaka,  you  have  a  daughter  ?  " 
"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Very  good.      Now,  Dambwala,  can  your  son  marry 
Nantiaka's  daughter  ?  " 
"No." 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  I  must  have  been  very  tired,  indeed, 
for  even  the  surprise  audible  in  this  decided  negative  raised 
no  particular  expectations  in  my  mind.  I  only  began  to  listen 
more  attentively  when,  among  the  reasons  for  the  negative 
then  alleged,  my  ear  caught  the  word  litawa.  "Nini  litaiva? 
What  is  a  litawa  .-^  "  I  ask,  now  quite  fresh  and  lively.  Well, 
it  appears,  a  litawa  is  a  litawa.  Then  comes  a  long  shauri,  in 
which  the  wits  of  the  natives,  who,  like  us  have  been  half  asleep, 
awaken  to  full  activity,  and  all  three  languages — Makonde, 
Yao,  and  Makua— are  heard  at  once  with  a  clatter  of  tongues 
like  that  conventionally  attributed  to  a  woman's  tea-party. 
At  last  the  definition  is  found.  Translated  into  technical 
language  litawa  means  the  matriarchal  exogamic  kin,  includ  ng 
all  descended  from  one  common  ancestress.  A  man's  inherit- 
ance does  not  descend  to  his  son,  but  to  the  son  of  his  sister, 
and  a  young  Makonde  takes  his  wife,  not  from  his  own  litawa, 
but  in  one  of  the  numerous  matawa  outside  his  own.  The 
Makua  have  exactly  the  same  arrangement,  but  the  word  they 
use  instead  of  litawa  is  nihimu. 

The  evening  of  this  day — the  twenty-first  of  September — 
was  cheered  by  the  feeling  that  it  had  been  among  the  most 
successful  of  my  whole  journey.  In  order  to  celebrate  it  in  a 
worthy  fashion,  Knudsen  and  I,  instead  of  the  one  bottle 
of  beer  which  we  had  been  in  the  habit  of  sharing  between  us, 
shared  two. 

The  reader,  especially  after  my  declaration  in  Chapter  II, 
will  wonder  how  we  suddenly  became  possessed  of  this 
beverage.  It  is  true  that,  in  the  heat  of  the  plains  the  mere 
thought  of  it  was  intolerable,  but,  up  here,  close  to  the  clouds, 
especially  when  the  east  wind  blows  cold  of  an  evening,  a  glass 
of  German  beer  is  very  welcome.  A  few  weeks  ago  I  had 
occasion  to  send  a  dozen  cases  of  specimens  down  to  Lindi. 
The  twelve  carriers  left  early  one  morning,  and  were  expected 
back  in  a  fortnight.    On  all  previous  occasions  of  this  sort,  their 


310  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


absence  had  left  me  cold ;  this  time,  to  be  honest, we  two  white 
men  counted  the  days  of  that  fortnight,  and,  when,  on  a  Sunday 
morning,  the  unmistakable  sound  of  Wanyamwezi  porters 
approaching  their  journey's  end  was  heard  far  out  in  the  bush, 
we  hurried  to  meet  the  great  case  containing  many  long- 
forgotten  comforts — not  only  the  heavy  German  stout  from  the 
Dar  es  Salam  brewery,  but  above  all,  the  milk  we  had  so  greatly 
missed,  and  which  in  our  present  state  of  emaciation  was  an 
absolute  necessity. 

On  that  memorable  afternoon,  however,  the  close  of  which 
I  have  thus  been  anticipating,  I  had  no  leisure  to  think  of  such 
material  delights  as  these. 

**  So  your  son,  friend  Dambwala,  cannot  marry  Nantiaka's 
daughter,  because  both  belong  to  the  same  litawa — what  is 
the  name  of  your  litawa  ?  " 

"  Waniuchi." 
And  where  do  you  live  ?  " 
In  and  around  Niuchi." 

"  And  you,  Kumidachi,"  I  went  on,  turning  to  another 
old  man,  in  a  new  embroidered  fez,  which  marked  him  as  a 
headman,  "  to  what  litawa  do  you  belong  ? 

"  Nanyanga,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  Instantly  the  name 
is  written  down,  and  my  eye  rests  questioningly  on  the  next 
wise  man.  He,  one  of  the  quickest,  already  knows  what  is 
wanted,  and  does  not  wait  to  be  asked,  but  calls  out, 

Wamhwidia." 

But  I  cannot  go  on  in  this  way — I  must  find  out,  not  only 
the  names  but  their  meanings.  I  have  already  discovered, 
in  my  study  of  personal  names,  how  fond  the  natives  are  of 
discussing  etymologies,  and  here,  too,  only  a  slight  hint  is 
needed  to  get  the  meaning  of  the  clan-name  as  well  as  the 
name  itself.  I  had  translated  Waniuchi  as  "  the  people  of 
Niuchi  ;  "  but  this  interpretation  did  not  satisfy  these  black 
philologists, — niuchi  was  "  a  bee,"  they  said,  and  the  Waniuchi 
were  people  who  sought  honey  in  hollow  trees.  The  Nanyanga 
were  flute-players  in  time  of  war,  nanyanga  being  the  name  of 
the  Makonde  flute.  The  Wamhidia,  they  said,  had  their  name 
derived  from  the  verb  muhidia,  "  to  strike  down,"  from  their 
warlike  ancestors,  who  were  continually  fighting,  and  had 
beaten  down  everything  before  them. 


CLAN  SYSTEM 


311 


That  afternoon,  the  old  men,  in  spite  of  their  weariness, 
had  to  keep  on  much  longer  than  usual :  I  had  tasted  blood 
and  pumped  them,  till,  about  sunset,  their  poor  brains,  un- 
accustomed to  such  continued  exertion,  could  do  no  more. 
They,  however,  received  an  extra  tip,  in  return  for  their  self- 
sacrificing  help  in  this  difficult  subject.  Even  Moritz,  the 
finance-minister,  had  to-day  quite  lost  his  usual  hang-dog 
expression,  and  grinned  all  over  his  brown  face  when  he  came, 
after  we  had  struck  work,  to  hand  my  assistants  their  bright 
new  silver  pieces.  Since  then  I  have  devoted  all  my  efforts 
to  the  study  of  the  clan  system,  and  do  not  know  what  most 
excites  my  astonishment,  the  social  differentiation  of  the 
tribes,  their  subdivision  into  innumerable  matawa  and  dihimu 
(plural  of  nihimu),  or  the  fact  that,  as  I  am  forced  to  assume, 
none  of  my  predecessors  in  this  field  of  study  has  had  his  atten- 
tion called  to  this  arrangement.  However,  when  I  come  to 
think  it  over,  I  have  no  reason  to  be  surprised,  for  in  the  first 
place,  I  had  been  travelling  about  the  country  for  months 
without  suspecting  the  existence  of  the  clan  system,  and  in  the 
second,  it  was  a  mere  accident  that,  in  the  discussion  just 
described,  the  answer  happened  to  take  just  the  form  it  did. 
Men  are  to  a  certain  extent  at  the  mercy  of  the  unforeseen — 
the  scientific  traveller  most  of  all. 

Needless  to  say,  immediately  after  this  momentous  dis- 
covery, I  came  back  to  the  problem  of  the  Yaos.  After  my 
Makua  and  Makonde  men  had  for  some  time  been  dictating 
name  after  name  with  the  most  interesting  explanations 
into  my  note-book.  Nils  Knudsen  suddenly  said,  "  The  Yaos 
have  something  of  that  sort,  too."  Ten  minutes  later,  swift 
messengers  were  already  on  the  way  to  fetch  up  from  the  plain 
any  men  of  that  tribe  who  had  the  slightest  pretensions  to 
intelligence.  They  all  came  up — Zuza,  and  Daudi,  and 
Masanyara  and  the  rest.  Even  now  the  examination  was 
no  easy  task,  either  for  me  or  for  the  subjects,  but  after  honestly 
doing  my  best,  I  got  enough  out  of  them  to  be  able  to  say, 
"  Nils  Knudsen  is  right,  the  Yaos,  too,  have  something  of  the 
sort."  Not  only  so,  but  in  their  case  I  ascertained  without 
much  difficulty  that  there  is  a  second  division  into  large  groups, 
quite  independent  of  the  system  of  matriarchal,  exogamous  clans. 

Of  the  great  groups  of  the  Yao  tribe,  which  is  now  spread 


312 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


over  an  extraordinarily  large  region  of  East  Africa,  since  it 
extends  from  Lake  Chihva  in  the  south  almost  to  the  gates 
of  Lindi  in  the  north,  the  following  are  known  to  us, — the 
Amakale,  near  the  sources  of  the  Rovuma,  the  Achinamataka 
or  Wamwembe  at  Mataka's,  between  the  Rovuma  and  the 
Lujende  ;  the  Amasaninga,  originally  at  the  south  end  of 
Lake  Nyasa  ;  the  Achinamakanjira,  or  Amachinga,  on  the 
Upper  Lujende  ;  the  Mangoche  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Blantyre.  The  indication  of  the  residences  of  these  great 
groups,  as  here  given,  has  now  merely  a  historic  value.  Through 
the  gradual  migrations  already  alluded  to,  the  old  limits  of  the 
groups  are  now  quite  effaced,  and  can  no  longer  be  definitely 
laid  down  on  the  map.  The  clans,  too  (here  caUed  ngosyo, 
plural  of  lukosyo),  cannot  possibly  have  any  definite  position 
assigned  them  on  the  map ;  and  this  is  also  true  of  the  other 
tribes.  Some  clans,  indeed,  may  have  a  recognizable  centre 
of  distribution,  but  in  general,  the  same  confusion  prevails 
here  as  in  the  case  of  the  larger  divisions. 

It  was  not  merely  curiosity  which  made  me  so  persistent  in 
inquiring  into  the  meaning  of  clan  names,  but  the  desire  to 
ascertain  whether  they  convey  any  indications  of  totemism. 
It  may  not  be  superfluous  to  say  that  the  word  totem  comes 
from  North  America,  and  was  originally  applied  to  the  draw- 
ings of  animals  appended  by  the  Iroquois  chiefs  to  their 
treaties  with  the  white  man  by  w^ay  of  signature,  the  animal 
represented  being  that  from  which  the  clan  of  the  signatory 
traced  its  descent.  Totemism  was  first  studied  among  these 
North  American  Indians,  but  was  afterwards  discovered  to 
exist  in  Australia,  apparently,  also,  in  Melanesia,  and  in  a 
very  marked  form  among  the  older  populations  of  India,  as 
well  as  in  various  other  parts  of  the  world.  In  most  cases,  the 
clans  trace  their  descent  from  some  animal,  which  is  reckoned 
sacred  and  invulnerable  and  must  not  be  hunted  or  eaten. 
In  some  isolated  instances  it  is  even  considered  the  height 
of  good  fortune  for  a  man  to  be  eaten  by  his  totem  animal. 
Small  and  harmless  creatures,  as  well  as  plants,  are  also 
chosen  as  totems — otherwise  it  would  scarcely  be  possible 
to  find  enough  ;  as,  for  example,  in  Southern  India,  where  the 
totems  are  innumerable.  I  cannot  here  give  the  whole  long 
series  of  clan  names  collected  by  me  for  all  three  tribes,  but 


MEANING  OF  CLAN  NAMES 


313 


must  refer  the  reader  for  this  part  of  my  results  to  the  official 
publication.  But  it  was  interesting  to  find  that  though 
totemism  no  longer  consciously  exists  among  the  natives,  many 
a  small  trait  witnesses  to  its  former  prevalence.  To  point  out 
these  traits  in  detail  will  be  the  task  of  later  inquirers,  I  will 
here  give  only  a  few  specimens  of  the  clan  names. 

Matola  and  his  cousin,  our  common  friend,  Daudi,  belong 
to  the  lukosyo  of  the  Achemtinga,  but  at  the  same  time  to  the 
group  of  the  Amachinga.  ^  The  prefix  Che,  as  already  stated, 
is  an  honorific  title  for  both  men  and  women  : — Chemtinga, 
according  to  Daudi,  was  once  a  great  chief  in  the  region  of  the 
upper  Lujende.  The  Masimbo  lived  in  Zuza's  district.  These 
take  their  name  from  the  pitfalls  {lisimho,  plural  masimbo) 
in  which  their  forefathers  used  to  catch  game.  The  Amiraji, 
who  lived  near  Mwiti,  derive  their  name  from  the  character 
of  the  country  where  they  formerly  lived,  which  abounded 
in  bamboo  [mlasi).'^  Another  Yao  clan  are  the  Achingala, 
who  take  their  name  from  the  ngala,  a  kind  of  mussel,  found 
in  the  Rovuma  and  its  tributaries,  the  shells  of  which  are  still 
used  as  spoons  ;  the  reason  for  the  name  is  said  to  be  that 
their  ancestors  chiefly  lived  on  this  mollusc. 

In  the  same  category  as  these  last  we  may  place  the  Makua 
clan  of  the  Wamhole,  whose  forefathers  fed  on  the  wild  manioc 
(mhole),  a  root  still  eaten  in  time  of  famine.  The  Makonde 
clan  of  the  W^ambunga  derive  their  name  from  the  tradition 
that  their  ancestors  ate  the  namhunga,  or  fruit  of  the  bamboo. 
The  Wantanda  formerly  had  the  custom  of  cutting  the  flesh 
of  the  game  they  killed  into  long  strips  (nantanda).  The 
Wamunga^  are  rice-planters,  the  ancestors  of  the  Alamande 
lived  on  a  small  locust  of  that  name,  and  the  Wutende  are  people 
famous  throughout  the  country  on  account  of  a  quality  for 
which  we  are  little  disposed  to  give  the  natives  credit — they 
are  always  working  (kutenda). 

Even  in  the  cool  chmate  of  Europe  it  is  not  altogether  easy 

for  the  mind  to  grasp  the  marriage-laws  of  these  clans.  Here 

in  tropical  Africa,  with  its  perpetual  alternations  of  heat  and 

^  The  author  seems  to  be  mistaken  in  the  distinction  drawn  between 
the  ngosyo  and  the  "  groups."    See  note  at  end  of  chapter.  [Tr.] 
^  Miraji,  plural  of  mlaji,  a  form  interchangeable  with  mlasi.  [Tr.] 
^  Rice  in  Makua  is  mvuka  or  moka  ;  the  word  in  the  text  may  be 
a  corrupt  form  intermediate  between  this  and  the  Yao  mpunga. 


314  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


cold,  I  find  it  almost  impossible  to  follow  the  expositions  of 
old  Mponda,  my  principal  lecturer  on  Civil  Law.  Moreover, 
it  is  very  much  of  a  shock  to  our  customary  ways  of  thinking, 
to  hear,  for  example,  the  following  : — After  the  Makonde 
boy  has  been  circumcised  he  does  not  return  to  his  parents' 
house,  but  remains  in  that  of  his  maternal  uncle.  There  he 
has  nothing  further  to  do  but  grow  up  and  wait  till  his  girl 
cousins  are  grown  up  likewise.  If  the  uncle  has  no  daughters, 
the  nephew  first  waits  till  one  is  born,  and,  after  this  event 
has  taken  place,  he  has  again  to  wait.  It  must  be  understood 
that  the  young  man  is  not  supposed  to  get  his  board  for 
nothing  all  this  time  ;  he  is  expected  to  work  pretty  hard,  like 
Jacob  serving  seven  years  for  Rachel.  When  at  last  the  goal 
is  reached  and  the  cousin  is  marriageable,  the  suitor,  meanwhile 
arrived  at  years  of  discretion,  goes  away  somewhere  where  he 
can  earn  a  rupee's  worth  of  calico,  hands  this  to  his  uncle, 
and  takes  home  his  wife.  He  is  not,  however,  free  to  live 
where  he  likes,  but  remains  at  his  uncle's  village,  and  works 
for  him  like  a  bondsman,  as  before.  If,  in  due  course,  he  has 
a  son,  this  son,  according  to  Mponda,  must  again  marry  a 
cousin — the  daughter  of  his  father's  sister.  In  the  old  man's 
own  concise  words  :  "  If  I  have  a  sister  and  she  has  a  daughter, 
and  I  have  a  son,  my  son  can  marry  that  girl.  But  if  I  have 
a  brother  and  he  has  a  daughter,  my  son  cannot  marry  his 
daughter,  because  she  is  numbuwe — his  sister." 

We  took  our  leave  of  the  young  girl  at  the  moment  when, 
after  passing  through  the  months  of  the  chiputu  with  their 
formalities  and  festivities,  she  has  taken  her  place  among  the 
initiated.  According  to  some  of  my  informants  the  child's 
marriage  takes  place  very  soon  after  this  epoch — certainly 
before  the  period  which  we  in  Europe  consider  as  the  beginning 
of  maturity,  viz.,  the  first  menstruation. 

I  have  no  means  of  checking  these  statements,  so  cannot 
say  whether  this  is  so  or  not  ;  in  any  case  we  are  just  now 
more  interested  in  the  treatment  of  girls  on  the  occasion 
alluded  to — the  more  so  that  this  treatment  is  analogous  to 
that  practised  in  a  whole  series  of  other  regions.  As  on  the 
Lower  Guinea  coast,  (in  Loango,  ^  on  the  Gabun,  and  on  the 

1  See,  inter  alia,  Mr.  R.  T.  Dennett's  At  the  Back  of  the  Black  Man's 
Mind,  pp.  38,  68-70.  [Tr.] 


THE  CEREMONIAL  BARK-CLOTH  315 


Ogowe)  and  in  various  parts  of  Melanesia,  the  girl  is  lodged 
in  a  separate  hut,  where  she  remains  entirely  alone ;  her  friends 
come  and  dance,  uttering  the  shrill  cry  of  the  ntunguhdu 
outside  the  hut,  but  otherwise  keep  at  a  distance.  Her  mother, 
her  instructress  during  the  unyago,  and  the  other  wise  women, 
however,  impart  to  her  the  rules  of  conduct  and  hygiene  : — 
she  must  keep  at  a  distance  from  every  one  ;  she  must  be 
particular  as  to  cleanliness,  must  wash  herself  and  bathe,  but 
above  all,  must  have  intercourse  with  no  one.  This  is  repeated 
over  and  over  again,  while  at  the  same  time  eating,  singing  and 
dancing  go  on  incessantly. 

At  the  first  pregnancy  of  a  young  wife,  also,  various  cere- 
monies take  place.  At  bottom,  however,  these  are  only  a 
pleasant  setting  for  a  number  of  rules  and  prohibitions  incul- 
cated on  this  occasion  by  the  older  women.  In  the  fifth 
month  the  young  woman  has  her  head  shaved,  and  a  month 
later  the  women  make  a  feast  for  themselves,  and  roa^t  some 
maize  for  her.  Some  more  maize  is  then  soaked  in  water 
and  pounded  and  the  resulting  paste  smeared  on  her  head. 
Then  the  husband  goes  to  the  bush,  accompanied  by  a  near 
relation  of  his  wife's,  the  woman  wearing  nothing  but  a  small 
waist-cloth.  The  man  cuts  down  a  suitable  tree  and  prepares 
a  piece  of  bark-cloth  in  the  way  already  described,  while  the 
girl  sings  in  time  to  the  strokes  of  his  mallet  "  Nalishanira 
wozewa  neakutende."  The  fabric  when  finished  is  ornamented 
with  beads,  and  the  instructress  hangs  it  round  her  protegee's 
neck  as  a  charm.  This  is  called  mare  ndemho,  and  the  same 
name  is  henceforth  applied  to  the  expectant  mother.  Next 
morning  all  the  people  are  again  assembled  for  the  dance — 
the  inevitable  ntungululu  inseparable  from  all  joyful  feelings 
or  festive  occasions,  mingling,  of  course,  with  the  singing  and 
hand-clapping.  All,  however,  do  not  take  part  in  these 
rejoicings  ;  the  wise  women  and  the  instructress  stand  apart 
from  the  crowd,  in  a  group  round  the  young  wife.  "  You  must 
not  sit  on  other  people's  mats,"  says  one  toothless  old  woman, 
"  it  would  injure  both  you  and  the  child — you  would  be 
prematurely  confined." 

"  You  must  not  talk  to  your  friends,  men  or  women,"  says 
another  woman,  whose  utterance  is  impeded  by  an  enormous 
pelele,  "  that,  too,  would  be  bad  for  the  child." 


316 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


"  Yuu  must  not  go  out  much  after  this,"  says  a  third. 
"  If  possible  let  no  one  see  you  but  your  husband,  or  the 
baby  might  resemble  someone  else.  But  if  you  do  go  out, 
you  must  get  out  of  people's  way,  for  even  the  ^mell  of  them 
might  hurt  the  child." 

There  is,  after  all,  something  in  these  rules  and  warnings. 
We  in  Europe  are  quite  familiar  with  the  idea  that  a  pregnant 
woman  must  not  see  anything  unpleasant  or  terrifying,  and 
ought  not,  if  she  can  possibly  help  it,  to  let  herself  be  impressed 
by  any  other  face  than  that  of  her  husband.  The  other  pre- 
scriptions belong  to  the  region  of  sympathetic  magic,  or  action 
by  analogy — the  mere  possibility  of  coming  within  the  atmos- 
phere of  people  who  have  recently  had  sexual  intercourse 
with  one  another  may  endanger  the  coming  life. 

But  this  is  not  all, — the  most  important  points  are  yet  to 
come. 

"  You  must  not  eat  eggs,  or  your  child  will  have  no  hair." 

"  You  must  not  eat  the  flesh  of  monkeys,  or  the  child  will 
have  no  more  sense  than  a  monkey." 

"  Y^ou  must  not  eat  what  is  left  over  in  the  cooking-pot 
from  the  day  before,  or  the  baby  will  be  ill." 

"  If  you  go  to  the  garden  or  the  well,  and  anyone  salutes 
you,  you  must  not  thank  him  or  answer  him  in  any  way,  for 
then  the  birth  of  the  child  will  be  long  delayed." 

The  conclusion  of  the  whole  lecture  which,  in  contrast  to  the 
system  pursued  in  our  Universities,  is  simultaneously  delivered 
by  many  teachers  to  one  unhappy  student,  is  the  very  urgent 
and  serious  warning  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  any  other 
man  than  her  husband,  or  she  will  infallibly  die.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  her  husband  were  to  forget  himself  and  go  after 
another,  woman,  she  would  have  a  miscarriage,  resulting  in 
her  death.  She  must,  therefore,  be  very  good  to  him  and  cook 
his  porridge  as  he  likes  it. 

This  is  the  last  word.  With  the  peculiar  gait  of  the  native 
woman,  which  has  an  inimitable  twist  in  it,  not  to  be  described 
in  words,  the  dispensers  of  wise  counsel  hasten,  as  fast  as  their 
dignity  will  allow,  across  the  open  space  and  join  the  rest  of 
the  throng.  "  Lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu," — the  shrill  vibrations  again 
agitate  the  air,  the  drums,  beaten  by  the  men's  strong  hands, 
strike  up  afresh,  a  mighty  cloud  of  dust  rises  and  veils  the 


THE  FIRST  STAGE  OF  INITIATION  317 


whole  scene,  everything  is  in  motion  and  full  of  genuine 

African  mirth,  all  unconscious  of  life's  daily  miseries.  One 

alone  sits  by  in  silence,   the   young  woman  herself  who, 

according  to  the  instructions  just  received,  is  entirely  interdicted 

from  taking  any  part  in  the  festivity.    Her  brown  eyes — which 

would  deserve  to  be  called  beautiful  were  their  effect  not  marred 

by  the  white  being  interspersed  with  yellowish-brown  specks — 

are  fixed  musingly  on  one  point.    Is  she  thinking  of  the  dark 

hour  she  will  have  to  encounter  in  a  few  months'  time  ?  The 

Scripture,  "  In  sorrow  shaft  thou  bring  forth  children,"  is 

true  for  the  black  race  also.    But,  personally,  I  do  not  think 

that  the  young  thing  is  looking  so  far  ahead  ;   it  is  not  in 

any  case  natural  for  youth  to  do  so,  and  African  youth,  in 

particular,  sees  no  occasion  to  be  anxious  about  the  future. 

The  race  is  truly  happy,  in  the  enviable  facility  with  which 

it  hves  for  to-day,  leaving  to-morrow's  cares  entire  and 

untouched  for  to-morrow. 

Note. — The  system  of  kinship  among  the  Yaos  and  neighbouring 
tribes  has  not  been  so  entirely  overlooked  by  inquirers  as  Dr.  Weule 
supposes.  The  subject  has  been  investigated  by  Archdeacon  Johnson, 
the  late  Bishop  Maples,  and  the  Rev.  H.  B.  Barnes  among  others, 
though,  unfortunately,  many  of  their  notes  are  buried  in  little-known 
periodicals.  Some  valuable  information  is  also  to  be  found  in  Mr. 
R.  Sutherland  Rattray's  Some  Folk-lore,  Songs  and  Stories  in  Chin- 
yanja.  We  think  Dr.  Weule  is  mistaken  in  distinguishing  the  "  larger 
groups  "  of  the  Yao  tribe  from  the  ngosyo  :  they  are  probably  identical 
with  the  latter  in  origin  :  e.g.,  the  Machinga  would  be  the  descendants 
of  a  single  (female)  ancestor,  who  in  the  course  of  generations  became 
numerous  and  powerful,  and  perhaps  increased  their  consequence  by 
incorporating  weaker  clans  who  placed  themselves  under  their  pro- 
tection and  adopted  their  name.  But  there  is  a  second  system  of 
descent,  which  may  be  what  Dr.  Weule  is  referring  to.  This  is  called 
by  the  Any  an  j  a  chilawa,  and  descends  through  the  father  ;  marriage 
within  it  is  prohibited.  "  A  man  may  not  marry  any  woman  who  is 
of  his  kamu  (Yao,  lukosyo)  or  of  his  chilawa.  Thus  the  daughters  of 
his  mother's  sisters  are  excluded  because  they  are  of  the  same  kamu,  and 
daughters  of  his  father's  brothers  are  excluded  because  they  are  of  the 
same  chilawa  ;  but  the  daughters  of  his  mother's  brothers  or  of  his 
father's  sisters  are  eligible,  because  they  are  neither  of  the  same  kamu 
nor  of  the  same  chilawa  "  (Rev.  H.  B.  Barnes).  This  tallies  with  the 
information  given  to  Dr.  Weule  about  the  Makonde  marriage  law^s 
(p.  314).  Mr.  Barnes  doubts  whether  the  clan  names  explained  to 
Dr.  Weule  are  really  connected  with  totems,  and  thinks  the  customs 
they  refer  to  are  "  perhaps  more  likely  to  be  traceable  to  individual 
peculiarities  of  some  ancestor  than  to  any  religious  totemistic  restric- 
tion," and  that  the  chilawa  names,  whose  significance  appears  to  be 
lost,  are  the  real  totem  names.  But  the  subject  is  too  wide  to  be 
discussed  in  a  note.  [Tr.] 


CHAPTER  XV 


LAST  DAYS  AT  NEWALA 

Newala,  October  10,  1906. 

"  INTorgen  muss  ich  fort  von  hier 

Unci  muss  Abschied  nehmen  .  .  .  ' 

The  words  of  the  German  students'  song  rise  to  my  lips,  now 
that  I  am  thinking  of  bringing  our  stay  here  to  a  close — though, 
as  a  rule,  I  am  anything  but  musical,  and  Knudsen,  for  his 
part,  can  never  get  beyond  the  first  hue  of  Gamle  Norge.  The 
mention  of  music  suggests  my  experiences  with  the  phonograph. 
When  laying  in  my  stock  of  blank  cylinders  at  Berlin,  it  was  a 
happy  inspiration  of  mine  to  take  half-a-dozen  records  as  w^ell, 
in  the  hope  that  they  might  serve  to  charm  the  savage  breast 
of  the  African.  I  have  no  sort  of  responsibility  for  the  choice 
of  these  pieces,  as  I  left  it  entirely  to  the  girl  who  served  me  at 
the  shop  where  I  bought  them.  What  determined  her  selection 
I  cannot  tell,  but  it  is  a  fact  that  the  greater  number  of  the  six 
records,  though  not  all,  are  immensely  popular.  An  American 
march — quite  rightly — produces  no  impression  whatever,  and  a 
selection  of  songs  fails  to  attract  my  public  :  it  seems  to 
suggest  nothing  at  all  to  them.  The  next  item  on  the  pro- 
gramme, the  arrangement  of  which  I  always  leave  to  Knudsen, 
so  that  he  may  learn  to  work  the  instrument, — is  "  Die  heiden 
kleinen  Finkcn  "  ("  The  Two  Little  Finches  ").  Here  and 
there  an  eye  lights  up  with  intelligence  when  the  twittering 
of  the  birds  begins,  and  many  sets  of  white  teeth  are  seen 
flashing  behind  the  parapet  which  shuts  off  our  haraza  from 
the  outer  passage.  Then  comes  the  well-known  xylophone 
solo,  "  Der  Specht  "  The  Woodpecker  ").  As  the  deep  bass 
voice  announcing  the  title  of  the  piece  issues  from  the  funnel, 
the  whole  audience  leans  over  the  wall  in  feverish  excitement, 
one  might  almost  say  with  ears  erect.  A  few  of  the  experienced 
elders,  who  have  been  on  the  coast  and  therefore  have  the 
right  to  appear  biases,  laugh  ostentatiously  to  show  that  they 
understand.     But  this  laughter  dies  away  when  the  pure 

318 


THE  PHONOGRAPH 


319 


tones  of  my  instrument,  unmixed  with  any  adventitious  sound, 
begin  to  reproduce  in  the  most  striking  way  the  unmistakable 
notes  of  the  xylophone.  One  can  see  that  these  people  have 
an  ear  and  enjoy  the  harmon}^  of  sounds  perhaps  as  much  as 
we  do.  Besides,  the  sounds  are  not  in  this  case  unfamiliar — 
for  the  mgoromondo,  the  straw  xylophone  already  described, 
has  exactly  the  same  timbre.  By  the  time  the  final  tapping 
duet  begins,  ever3^thing  about  them  is  shining — their  eyes, 
their  teeth,  their  w^hole  faces — in  fact  they  shine  all  over,  for 
they  keep  crowding  together  more  and  more  closely,  and 
it  is  by  no  means  cool.  Die  Schmiede  im  Walde  "  ("  The 
Forge  in  the  Forest  ")  scarcely  heightens  their  pleasure  ; 
it  is  true  that  the  enjo3'ment  is  great  and  general,  but  the 
blacksmith  is  a  familiar  figure  of  everyday  life,  and  the  rhythm 
of  his  hammer  as  well  known  to  them  as  it  is  to  us.  Now, 
however,  comes  our  aria  di  bravura.  It  has  been  my  experience 
that  when  a  white  man,  after  long  residence  among  savages, 
declines  more  or  less  from  the  level  of  civilized  society,  music 
is  the  first  thing  to  stimulate  the  endeavour  towards  recovery. 
Nils  Knudsen  can  listen  to  the  Fledcrmaiis  seventeen  times 
running  without  getting  enough  of  it.  He  winds  up  the 
apparatus  over  and  over  again  and  remarks  that  this  is  real 
music — the  right  sort.  The  natives,  too,  are  dehghted  with 
the  merry,  audacious  tunes,  and  if  the  mood  of  the  moment 
is  such  that  I  feel  moved  to  execute  a  few  waltz  or  polka 
steps  and  float,  like  a  fairy  weighing  some  thirteen  stone, 
round  the  table  on  which  the  phonograph  is  placed,  their 
delight  becomes  indescribable  rapture.  This  is  the  right 
moment  for  turning  the  tables  and  calling  on  the  audience 
to  become  performers  in  their  turn.  The  Newala  natives 
are  very  reluctant  to  oblige  in  this  respect  ;  the  men  can  only 
be  induced  to  come  up  to  the  phonograph  when  under  the 
influence  of  the  ecstasy  just  alluded  to,  but  the  women  are 
off  like  the  wind  whenever  I  want  them. 

The  men,  too,  here  at  Newala,  would  not  come  near  me  for 
a  time.  I  had  become  so  absorbed  in  the  linguistic  studies 
which  had  been  occupying  me  more  and  more  during  the  last 
few  weeks,  that  my  growing  isolation  did  not  at  first  strike 
me.  Only  when  Knudsen  and  I  found  that  we  scarcely  ever 
saw  any  one  besides  my  three  teachers,  the  akida  Sefu,  the 


320 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Yao  Akuchigombo  (which  is,  being  interpreted,  Mr.  Tooth- 
brush), and  the  Makua  Namalowe  (Mr.  Echo),  it  became  clear 
to  me  that  some  circumstance  unknown  to  me  must  be  the  cause 
of  this  boycotting.  Neither  Sefu  nor  the  other  two  could  or 
would  explain  matters.  Mr.  Echo  had  only  been  resident  a 
short  time  at  Newala,  having  recently  come  to  be  trained  as  a 
teacher  under  his  older  colleague  at  the  Universities'  ^lission, 
so  that  his  ignorance  was  not  surprising  ;  but  it  annoyed 
me  greatly  that  the  other  two  would  give  no  answer  to  all  my 
inquiries  beyond  ''Si  jui''  ("I  don't  know").  However, 
I  was  forced  to  admit  that  even  these  two  did  not  really  belong 
to  the  place,  Sefu  being  a  coast  man,  and  in  his  capacity  of 
akida,  probably  more  feared  than  loved,  while  Akuchigombo 
was  educated  at  Zanzibar,  and  through  his  position  as  teacher 
of  the  Mission  School,  separated  by  a  great  gulf  from  the  illiter- 
ate mass  of  the  population.  This  school,  with  a  rusty  tub?  of 
an  artesian  well  and  a  small  church-bell,  hung  according  to  the 
custom  of  this  country  in  the  first  convenient  tree,  are  the  only 
relics  of  the  once  flourishing  station  of  New  Newala. 

Only  within  the  last  few  days  has  Knudsen  been  able  to 
get  out  of  an  old  friend  from  the  plains  the  reason  why  we  have 
been  left  so  severely  alone.  The  explanation,  strange  as  it 
may  seem  to  a  European,  is  genuinely  African  :  it  is  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  the  suspicion — indeed  the  certainty — 
that  I  am  a  dangerous  sorcerer.  Somehow  the  belief  had 
gained  ground  that  in  photographing  people  I  deprived  them 
of  whatever  clothes  they  were  wearing.  "  Have  you  not  seen," 
some  individual  whose  name  is  as  yet  unknown  to  me,  is 
reported  as  saying  to  his  countrymen,  "  how  the  white  man 
gets  under  his  great  black  cloth  ?  It  is  then  that  he  bewitches 
you.  You  are  standing  there  with  all  your  clothes  on,  but 
he  goes  and  stands  for  hours  in  his  tent  overnight,  working 
his  charms,  and  next  day,  when  he  gets  out  his  glasses,  there 
you  are  on  them  quite  naked.  And  if  you  are  foolish  enough 
to  go  and  stand  in  front  of  the  other  machine,  he  will  take 
aw^ay  your  voices,  too.  He  is  a  great  wizard,  and  his  medicines 
are  stronger  than  even  our  chisango  (divination  oracle).  We 
made  war  against  the  Wadachi  (the  Germans),  but  what  fools 
we  were  to  do  so,  for  this  white  man  is  one  of  them  !  " 

The  comic  aspect  of  the  situation  struck  me  far  more  forcibly 


MY  UNCANNY  REPUTATION  321 


than  the  annoying  one,  and  we  both  hiughed  heartily-  I 
had  not  before  reahzed  that  the  phonograph  had  all  along 
seemed  to  these  people  more  or  less  uncanny^ — the  apparatus 
always  stood  so  that  they  could  only  see  the  mouthpiece 
and  the  smooth  front,  the  rotating  cylinder  being  invisible 
to  them.  They  had  seen,  indeed,  that  Knudsen  or  I  went 
through  some  manipulation  of  the  instrument,  but  none  of 
them  had  formed  any  idea  as  to  the  nature  of  the  process. 
Thus  the  inexplicable  assumed  the  aspect  of  the  occult,  and  I 
was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  a  wizard  who  robbed  people  of 
their  voices.  I  must  in  this  connection  make  honourable 
mention  of  the  enterprising  Zuza.  Once,  though  only  after 
the  spell  had  been  broken  in  another  way,  he  seized  a  favourable 
opportunity  to  walk  round  the  apparatus  and  see  the  revolving 
cylinder.  Since  that  day  this  intelligent  man  and  the  more 
enlightened  of  his  followers  look  on  the  phonograph  as  a  mere 
machine,  as  innocent  as  any  other  brought  by  the  white  man 
from  distant  Ulaya. 

In  regard  to  my  magic  for  stripping  people  of  their  clothes, 
I  took  very  energetic  steps.  We  used  all  our  persuasions  to 
get  a  few  men  and  women  to  pose  before  the  camera,  took  the 
photographs,  developed  them  on  the  spot,  printed  them  and 
exhibited  the  finished  picture-postcards.  Well,  are  you 
naked  in  this  picture,  or  are  you  clothed  ?  And  are  these  the 
very  same  clothes  you  are  now  wearing  on  your  black  bodies, 
or  are  they  not  ?  "  Half-timid,  half-startled  at  the  novel 
spectacle,  both  men  and  women  stared  at  the  wonder  of  the 
picture ;  then  they  all  went  off  with  their  portraits  and  the 
parting  injunction  to  tell  everyone  that  the  white  man  was 
no  sorcerer  and  did  not  rob  people  of  their  clothes,  but  that 
they  were  dressed  in  his  pictures  exactly  as  in  real  life.  This 
proved  quite  effectual,  and  to-day  the  natives  gather  round 
us  as  confidingly  as  they  did  at  first. 

On  the  whole  they  might  now  save  themselves  the  trouble, 
for  I  find  that  I  no  longer  require  them.  The  objects  they 
bring  for  sale  are  the  same  as  I  already  possess  by  the  hundred, 
and  my  photographs  reveal  no  further  novelties — it  is  always 
the  same  type,  the  same  keloids,  the  same  pelele.  I  therefore 
find  it  best  to  devote  the  greater  part  of  my  time  to  languages, 
and  the  remainder  to  desultory  notes  on  points  which  turn  up 

21— (2I31) 


322 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


of  themselves  during  my  excursions  in  the  neighbourhood.  A 
few  days  ago,  I  came  across  the  strangest  thing  I  have  yet  met 
with  in  this  country  where  strange  things  are  so  common. 
For  some  weeks  past,  Namalowe  had  spoken  of  a  custom  of 
the  Makua  girls,  who,  he  said,  carry  a  collection  of  pebbles 
under  their  tongues  as  in  a  nest.  I  had  laughed  at  the  man — 
with  a  significant  gesture  towards  my  forehead — every  time 
he  said  this.  The  day  before  yesterday,  we  live  were  assembled 
in  the  haraza  as  usual,  and  worrying  ourselves  over  some 
peculiarly  difficult  forms  in  Yao.  Namalowe,  being  a  Makua, 
was  not  wanted  just  then,  so  excused  himself  and  left  the 
haraza.  We  were  hardly  thinking  of  him  when  I  heard  steps 
approaching  and  a  slender  figure  of  a  girl  appeared  between 
the  mat  screen  and  the  clay  parapet,  immediately  followed 
by  that  of  the  native  teacher.  The  next  moment  the  pretty 
young  creature  stood  before  us,  shyly  smiling.  "  Hapa 
namangahlu,  Bwana  "  ("  Here  are  the  mouth-stones,  sir  "), 
said  Namalowe,  pointing  with  a  triumphant  gesture  to  the 
girl's  mouth  which  was  adorned  with  a  pelele  of  only  moderate 
dimensions.  We  all  rose  to  our  feet  in  the  greatest  excitement. 
Sefu,  Namalowe  and  Akuchigombo  all  talked  to  her  at  once 
for  some  time,  and  at  last  reluctantly  putting  her  hand  to  her 
mouth  she  produced  an  oval  pebble,  as  large  as  the  kernel  of 
a  hazel-nut,  worn  quite  smooth,  and  almost  transparent,  and 
held  it  out  to  us  on  her  open  palm.  A  second,  third  and  fourth 
followed,  and  I  stood  dumb  with  surprise,  while  Namalowe 
could  scarcely  contain  himself  for  satisfaction.  Is  it  a  halluci- 
nation ?  or  has  the  good  schoolmaster  been  cheating  ?  The 
girl  takes  a  fifth  pebble  out  of  her  mouth — then  a  sixth  ;  at 
last,  after  the  seventh  and  eighth,  the  nest  appears  to  be  empty. 
My  three  savants  informed  me  that  these  namangahlu  are  quartz 
pebbles  found  in  the  gravel  of  all  the  rivers  hereabouts,  though 
the  finest  and  clearest  are  those  from  the  Rovuma,  so  that  it 
is  a  point  of  honour  for  the  young  men  to  bring  them  from 
thence  as  presents  to  their  innanioratas.  Pearl  necklaces  and 
settings  d  jour  are  as  yet  beyond  the  aspirations  of  fashion  on 
the  Makonde  plateau,  and  pockets  are  also  an  unknown 
refinement  of  luxury,  so  that  the  mouth  is  the  only  place  for 
storing  these  jewels.  This  at  least  is  how  I  explain  the  unique 
method  of  carrying  about  the  stones.    According  to  my 


PEBBLES  IN  THE  MOUTH 


323 


informants,  the  meaning  of  the  custom  is  equivalent  to  a  troth- 
phght,  and  therefore  the  pebbles  are  the  African  for  an 
engagement  ring,  except  that,  in  contrast  to  the  latter,  they  are 
seen  by  no  one  but  the  lover.  My  first  instinctive  suspicion  of 
a  hoax  was,  I  may  safely  assume,  unfounded.  I  have  since 
studied  the  matter  on  my  own  account,  and  found  several 
young  Makua  women  carrying  the  stones  in  the  manner 
described,  so  that  I  have  independent  evidence  for  the  custom.  ^ 
It  really  seems  as  if  there  were  no  degree  of  lunacy  of  which 
human  beings  are  incapable  ! 

The  climate  of  Newala  has  been  growing  worse  and  worse. 
We  enjoyed  a  short  interval  of  lovely  weather  resembling  that 
of  a  fine  autumn  in  Central  Germany  ;  but  now  the  mist 
shrouds  the  homa  every  morning  up  to  about  half -past  eight, 
and  in  the  evening  the  east  wind  blows  more  icily  than  ever. 
We  two  Europeans  are  afflicted  with  chronic  colds,  and  our 
men  are  in  a  sorry  plight.  They  have  not  much  in  the  way 
of  clothes,  the  carriers  being  without  even  a  change  of  calico  ; 
and  the  commissariat  of  the  poor  wretches  is  not  all  that  could 
be  desired.  When  we  consider  in  addition  that  the  water  is  far 
from  pure,  I  am  not  surprised  that  the  sick-list  grows  from 
week  to  week.  On  every  side  I  hear  indications  of  severe 
bronchial  catarrh,  and  almost  fancy  myself  back  again  with 
Ewerbeck's  company  of  coughers.  Cases  of  dysentery,  too, 
are  not  rare,  neither  are  those  of  sexual  disease.  Most  of 
the  patients  have  sufficient  confidence  in  their  mzungii  to 
come  voluntarily  and  take  in  the  most  heroic  manner  any 
kind  of  dawa  that  is  put  into  their  mouths.  I  have  to  treat 
my  soldiers  in  military  fashion  by  having  them  up  for  medical 
inspection  from  time  to  time.  At  the  same  time,  as  one 
might  expect  from  the  native  character,  they  will  very  often 
carry  on  a  concurrent  treatment  with  mshenzi  medicines. 
Whenever  Knudsen  and  I  take  a  stroll  along  any  of  the  roads 
leading  out  of  Newala,  we  are  pretty  sure  to  come  upon  curious 
objects  at  places  where  two  paths  meet  or  cross.  The  ground 
has  been  carefully  cleared  of  leaves,  branches,  etc.,  and  in  the 

1  The  same  thing  is  done  by  Mang'anja  girls  on  the  Shire,  in  order  to 
make  them  articulate  clearly.  The  pebbles  used  for  the  purpose  are 
taken  from  the  stomachs  of  crocodiles,  which  sometimes  contain  enough 
to  fill  a  bucket.  (MS.  note  made  at  Blantyre,  August  30th,  1894.) — [Tr.] 


324  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


middle  of  the  level  space  thus  made,  an  unknown  hand  has 
traced  with  snow-white  meal,  a  magic  circle  about  a  foot  in 
diameter  and  never  quite  regular.  Within  the  circle  little 
heaps  of  flour  are  arranged  according  to  some  recognised 
system,  with  more  or  less  regularity,  in  rows  of  three 
or  four. 


AN    OFFERING  TO  THE  SPIRITS 


It  was  some  time  before  I  could  get  any  explanation  of  the 
object  and  meaning  of  these  figures,  which  I  had  also  seen 
before  coming  to  Newala.  This  kind  of  therapeutics  can 
only  be  understood  if  the  native's  views  as  to  a  life  after 
death  and  the  action  of  supernatural  powers  are  considered 
as  a  whole.  In  his  belief  human  life  by  no  means  ceases  with 
death.  It  is  true  that  the  body  is  buried  and  decomposes, 
but  the  soul  lives  on,  and  that  in  the  same  locality  where  it 
was  active  during  life.  Its  favourite  abode  is  a  conspicuous 
tree.  The  religion  of  these  southern  tribes  is  thus  distinctly 
tree-worship,  in  so  far  as  the  natives  sacrifice  and  pray  to 
their    deceased    ancestors    by  laying  food   and  drink  at 


w 

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h4 


326 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


the  foot  of  such  a  tree  and  addressing  their  petitions  to 
its  crown. 

The  msolo  tree  (in  Makonde  mholo)  is  the  one  here  distin- 
guished as  the  abode  of  the  gods.  To  this  tree  the  native  goes 
when  there  is  sickness  in  his  family,  or  when  he  is  about  to 
undertake  a  long  journey,  or  go  on  the  war-path.  He  does  not 
come  empty-handed,  but  decorates  the  trunk  with  coloured 
stuff,  so  that,  with  all  the  gaudy  rags  previously  fastened  there 
by  other  distressed  petitioners,  the  spectacle  presented  is  more 
curious  than  beautiful.  He  sweeps  the  ground  about  the  tree 
with  a  bunch  of  leaves,  sprinkles  flour  on  it,  and  pours  strength- 
ening pomhe  into  the  jar  placed  there  for  the  purpose.  These 
are  the  voluntary  offerings  of  the  living.  But  the  giver  being 
only  human,  and  not  only  human,  but  African,  expects  a 
quid  pro  quo  on  the  part  of  the  dead.  "  I  have  given  you 
cloth  and  brought  you  meal  and  beer  ;  you,  my  ancestor, 
know  that  we  are  going  to  war  against  our  enemies  the  Mavia. 
We  are  to  march  to-morrow  ;  let  no  bullet  strike  me,  no  arrow, 
and  no  spear."  The  tree  rustles  in  the  evening  breeze,  and 
the  believer  departs  reassured. 

But  the  souls  do  not  always  live  in  the  msolo  tree.  As  a 
rule,  they  are  restlessly  wandering  about  the  country,  and 
naturally  prefer  the  main  roads,  as  they  did  while  in  the  flesh. 
There,  and  above  all  in  places  where  several  roads  meet,  the}^ 
are  most  commonty  to  be  found,  and  their  protection  is  most 
likely  to  be  successfully  invoked.  This  at  least  is  the  best 
explanation  that  occurs  to  me  of  the  flour  offering  being  made 
by  preference  at  the  cross-roads.  The  sick  see  the  possibihty 
of  cure  only,  or  at  least  principally,  in  the  help  of  the  ancestral 
spirits  who  are  presumably  endowed  with  greater  powers  than 
they  enjo^'cd  in  this  life.  What,  therefore,  is  more  natural 
than  to  sacrifice  to  these  spirits  at  the  spots  which  they  may 
be  supposed  to  pass  most  frequently,  at  the  cross-roads  and  at 
the  junction  of  two  paths  ?  This  is  the  view  taken  by  my 
informants,  in  which  I  am  quite  disposed  to  concur  ;  it  seems 
extremely  probable,  while  at  the  same  time  I  admit  that 
there  may  conceivably  be  another  idea  underlying  the  flour 
circles. 

The  planting  of  special  trees  at  the  graves  seems  to  be 
closely  connected  with  tree-worship.    In  the  plains — and 


SEPULCHRAL  GROVES 


327 


among  the  Yaos  in  particular— I  noticed  no  such  trees,  but 
here  on  the  plateau  they  are  very  common.  On  recent  graves 
I  find  young,  slender  saplings  ;  in  other  spots,  where  only  the 
old  men  remember  that  anyone  is  buried,  there  are  enormous 
trees  with  mighty  trunks  sixty  feet  high  and  more.  More 
than  one  place  near  the  homa  of  Newala  is  rendered  solemnly 
impressive  by  a  number  of  such  old  sepulchral  trees.  The 
tree  is  the  one  called  kamuna,  and  is  always  planted  at 
the  head  of  the    grave. 


TREES   IX   THE   BURYIXG-GROUXD   AT  XEWAT.A 


for  a  time  in  these  trees,  I  have  hitherto  been  unable  to  make  out. 
In  fact,  it  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  get  any  definite  statements 
at  all  as  to  the  abiding-place  of  the  soul.  The  Yaos  gave  no 
information  whatever  on  this  point.  The  Makua  said  :  "  The 
shadow  of  the  man  goes  to  God,  and  God  lives  up  there."  But 
what  the  shadow  does  "  up  there,"  and  how  it  fares  in  that 
mysterious  abode,  they,  too,  do  not  know.  The  ghost  stories 
current  among  the  natives  of  these  parts  are  horrible  and  awe- 
inspiring  enough,  to  judge  by  the  specimens  I  have  heard. 
I  will  give  one  of  them.  Both  Wayao  and  Wamakua  have  a 
ghost  called  itondosha  (or  in  Yao,  ndondosha) .  If  a  magician 
.  has  killed  a  child — like  all  peoples  in  the  primitive  stage,  the 
African  does  not  look  on  death  as  a  natural  occurrence,  but 


328 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


always  attributes  it  to  magical  practices — he  takes  it  out  of 
the  grave,  brings  it  to  life  again,  and  cuts  off  both  legs  at  the 
knee-joint.  The  sorcerer  throws  away  the  severed  limbs,  and 
sets  the  mutilated  body  of  the  child  secretly  in  a  certain  place. 
Then  people  come  from  every  direction  and  bring  the  itondosha 
porridge,  beer,  fruits  and  cloth.  If  this  is  done  regularly  and  in 
sufficient  quantities,  nothing  more  is  heard  of  the  ghost,  but  if 
the  people,  as  time  goes  on,  forget  it,  it  suddenly  raises  piercing 
and  uncanny  shrieks,  which  frighten  the  people  and  cause  them 
to  renew  their  offerings  to  the  itondosha.  ^ 

\\'\t\\  the  usual  good  fortune  which  has  attended  my  inquiries, 
I  obtained  possession,  quite  accidentally,  of  a  song  referring 
to  this  itondosha.  This  was  given  me  by  Anastasio,  or  as  he 
called  himself,  Anestehiu,  -  a  pupil  of  the  Universities'  Mission, 
who  distinguished  himself  among  the  inhabitants  of  Newala 
by  his  willingness  to  face  my  phonograph.  His  zeal,  indeed, 
was  more  conspicuous  than  his  musical  ability,  but  his  services 
to  the  cause  of  science  deserve  recognition  all  the  same. 
The  words  of  his  song  run  as  follows  : — 
"  I  went  to  ^lasasi  ;  I  went  again  to  Masasi.  In  the  evening 
I  heard  screams  ;  I  turned  round  and  saw  the  itondosha. 
*  My  cousin  Cheluka  !  '  (I  cried),  '  Give  me  a  gun  and  caps  and 
a  bullet.'  '  Load  it  yourself,'  (said  my  cousin).  *  Come  and 
let  us  pursue  the  itondosha  ;  it  went  through  a  hole  in  the 
side  wall  of  the  house.'  My  brother  (cousin)  turned  round 
and  said  :  '  It  has  its  legs  stretched  out  straight  before  it, 
like  a  beard  on  the  chin.'  It  was  seated,  and  we  tried  to  tame 
the  itondosha,  the  girl  of  Ilulu.    Elo  (Yes),  that  is  so." 

A  less  uncanny  subject  was  broached  by  an  old  Makonde 
by  means  of  a  little  gift  which  he  brought  me.  We  had  been 
talking  about  the  method  of  reckoning  time  among  these 
tribes,  and  had  arrived  at  the  fact  that  they  were  as  backward, 
and  at  the  same  time  as  practical,  in  this  respect  as  in  their 
way  of  marking  the  hours  of  the  day. 

The  recording  of  events  by  means  of  knots  on  a  string  is  a 
contrivance  adopted  bv  mankind  at  different  times  and  in 
different  places.     The  famous  quipu  of  the  Peruvians  is  one 

1  See  note  at  end  of  chapter. — [Tr.] 

-  The  latter  speUing  is  intended  to  represent  the  Makua  version  of 
the  Enghsh  pronunciation  of  Anastasius. — ]Tr.] 


KNOTTED  STRINGS 


329 


example.  Others  have  been  discovered  in  the  Pacific,  and 
also  in  West  Africa.  Here  on  the  Makonde  Plateau  it  is  still 
in  daily  use,  for  the  number  of  children  learning  to  read  and 
write  in  the  German  Government  Schools  at  Lindi  and 
Mikindani  is  as  yet  but  small. 

With  a  courteous  gesture  the  Makonde  handed  me  a  piece 
of  bark  string  about  a  foot  long,  with  eleven  knots  at  regular 
intervals,  proceeding  to  explain,  with  Sefu's  help,  that 
the  string  was  intended  to  serve  as  a  kind  of  calendar. 
Supposing  he  were  going  on  an  eleven  days'  journey,  he  would 
say  to  his  wife,  "  This  knot  "  (touching  the  first)  "  is  to-day, 
when  I  am  starting  ;  to-morrow  "  (touching  the  second  knot) 


"  I  shall  be  on  the  road,  and  I  shall  be  walking  the  whole  of 
the  second  and  third  day,  but  here  "  (seizing  the  fifth  knot) 
"  I  shall  reach  the  end  of  the  journey.  I  shall  stay  there  the 
sixth  day,  and  start  for  home  on  the  seventh.  Do  not  forget, 
wife,  to  undo  a  knot  every  day,  and  on  the  tenth  you  will  have 
to  cook  food  for  me  ;  for,  see,  this  is  the  eleventh  day  when  I 
shall  come  back." 

Here,  again,  then,  we  have  a  survival,  something  which 
reminds  us  of  a  stage  of  culture  passed  through  long  ago  by 
our  ancestors.  After  all,  have  we  left  it  so  very  far  behind  ? 
Do  we  not,  to  this  day,  make  a  knot  in  our  handkerchief,  when 
we  have  something  we  want  to  remember  ?  Mankind  is  poor 
in  ideas,  not  only  in  the  sense  that  inventions  in  all  parts  of 
the  world  can  be  reduced  to  the  same  simple  fundamental 
principle,  but  with  all  our  technical  and  intellectual  progress 
the  most  advanced  members  of  the  race  are  in  some  points 
extremely  conservative.  So  much  the  knot  in  the  handkerchief 
is  sufficient  to  prove. 


KNOTTED  STRING  SERVING  AS  CALENDAR 


330  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


The  Makonde  system  of  knot-records  does  not  seem  to  be 
always  quite  so  simple  as  we  might  think  from  the  above 
example.  Another  Makonde  has  just  brought  me  a  whole 
bundle  of  knotted  strings,  saying  that  they  belong  to 
such  and  such  a  headman,  who  cannot  remember  which 
of  his  villagers  have  paid  their  hut-tax  and  which  have 
not,  but  can  manage  in  this  way  to  keep  count  of  them 
quite  successfully. 

In  the  light  of  my  experiences  in  this  country  I  am  more 
and  more  confirmed  in  the  conviction,  formed  on  the  ground 
of  previous  study  at  home,  that  our  conventional  estimate 
of  the  difference  between  "  savage  "  and  "  civilized  "  mankind 
is  to  a  great  extent  misleading.  It  is  true  that  Amerinds  and 
Eskimo,  Hyperboreans  and  negroes,  Oceanians  and  Australians 
alike,  along  with  many  peoples  of  southern  and  south-eastern 
Asia,  live  in  more  intimate  connection  with  surrounding  nature 
than  we,  who  think  that  our  environment  is  entirely  artificial. 
But  has  not  in  reality  each  one  of  these  despised  groups^of 
mankind  a  culture  of  its  own  ?  Is  not — to  take  those  who 
most  nearly  concern  us  just  now — the  material  and  mental 
life  of  these  Rovuma  Valley  natives  made  up  of  a  thousand 
details,  not  less  differentiated  from  each  other  than  the 
activities  of  our  own  lives  ?  It  is  true  that  the  native  cannot 
attain  by  means  of  his  hoe-culture  and  his  simple  arts  and 
crafts  to  that  standard  of  comfort  and  well-being  demanded  by 
every  white  man  who  is  even  moderately  well  off.  But  surely 
in  many  parts  of  Germany  our  rural  population  are  no  better, 
perhaps  even  worse  off,  than  these  barbarians  who  lie  under 
the  terrible  reproach  of  being  unable  to  write  their  names. 
I  am,  indeed,  very  far  from  seeing  these  so-called  primitive 
peoples  through  rose-coloured  spectacles ;  but  when  I  consider 
that,  in  despite  of  the  high  opinion  we  entertain  of  ourselves, 
the  enormous  advance  consequent  upon  the  invention  of 
printing,  the  discovery  of  the  New  World  and  the  Reforma- 
tion has  after  all  affected  in  the  fullest  sense  only  a  very  small 
fraction  of  the  white  race — we  might  say,  only  a  thin  upper 
stratum,  and  that  not  continuous, — I  cannot  but  come  back 
again  and  again  to  my  conviction  that  culture  is  not  a  thing 
of  which  we  have  the  monopoly. 

The  time,  however,  has  now  come  to  say  farewell  to  Newala, 


LEAVING  NEWALA 


331 


with  its  roaring  evening  gale,  its  cool  mornings,  its  jiggers,  and 
its  interesting  congeries  of  tribes. 

The  weeks  of  my  stay  here  have  been  a  time  of  hard  work — 
averaging,  one  day  with  another,  about  sixteen  hours  daily, — 
and  this  ver^^  circumstance  has  produced  a  sort  of  attachment 
to  the  place,  making  one  loth  to  part  from  it.  We  leave  at 
daybreak  to-morrow. 

Note. — The  itondosha  suggests  in  some  points  a  comparison  with 
the  Zuhi  umkovu,  or  "  famihar  "  of  wizards,  who  "  are  said  to  dig  up 
a  corpse  and  give  it  certain  medicines  which  restore  it  to  hfe,  when  they 
run  a  hot  needle  up  the  forehead  towards  the  back  part  of  the  head, 
then  sht  the  tongue,  and  it  becomes  an  umkovu,  speaking  with  an 
inarticulate  confused  sound,  and  is  employed  by  them  for  wicked 
purposes  "  (Colenso's  Zulu  Dictionary) .  The  umkovu,  like  certain  ani- 
mals (the  baboon,  the  wild  cat),  is,  however,  sent  out  on  errands  of 
mischief,  instead  of  being  set  up  in  the  mode  indicated  by  Dr.  Weule's 
informant.  See  also  Mr.  Dudley  Kidd's  Essential  Kafir,  p.  147,  and 
Among  the  Zulus  and  Amatonga,  by  the  late  David  Leslie,  who  calls  them 
Esemkofu  {isikovu  P)  and  says  that  the  witches  who  bring  them  to  life 
clip  off  the  top  of  the  tongue  so  that  the  creature  can  only  wail  out 
"  Maieh,  maieh,"  "  which  is  a  sound  like  the  soughing  of  the  wind." 
— [Tr.] 


CHAPTER  XVI 


THE  ROVUMA  ONCE  MORE 

On  the  Rovuma,  about  39°  40'  E.,  October  23,  1906. 

From  a  height  of  2,300  feet  above  sea-level  at  Newala  we 
have  descended  to  something  under  200  feet,  and  instead  of 
the  usual  noonday  temperature  of  76°  or  77°,  we  are  sweltering 
in  the  jungle  at  97°  or  thereabouts,  though  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood  of  our  old  friend  the  Rovuma.  But  I  must 
proceed  in  chronological  order,  if  my  narrative  is  to  be 
intelligible. 

The  early  morning  of  October  11th  was  as  misty,  raw  and 
cold  as  all  its  predecessors,  yet  to  our  perceptions  it  did  not 
resemble  them  in  the  least.  The  spectacle  of  uproarious  high 
spirits,  which  my  men  presented  when  we  left  Chingulungulu 
was  here  repeated  if  possible  in  an  intensified  form.  Newala 
proved,  in  fact,  anything  but  a  Capua  for  these  poor  fellows. 
Even  Pesa  mbili  II,  formerly  a  fellow  of  generous  propor- 
tions, has  become  quite  slender.  When  I  asked  him  yesterday, 
^'Tunibo  lako  wapi?^^  ("Where  is  your  stomach?")  he  replied 
with  a  mournful  glance  at  the  place  it  had  once  occupied, 
"  Tumho  limekwenda,  Bwana  "  ("  It  has  gone  away,  sir  "). 
Knudsen  and  I,  by  the  way,  can  say  much  the  same,  for  our 
khaki  suits  hang  quite  loosely  round  our  wasted  limbs. 

Mahuta  is  the  only  place  at  which  I  could  think  of  pursuing 
my  Makonde  studies.  It  is  not  only  the  political  centre  of  the 
hill  country,  and  the  residence  of  the  highest  Government 
official,  the  Wall,  but  is  from  a  geographical  point  of  view  very 
favourably  situated  for  my  purposes,  as  roads  lead  from  it 
in  all  directions,  by  which  I  can  easily  reach  the  various 
native  tribes,  or  by  which,  this  being  in  every  way  more 
convenient,  the  natives  can  come  to  me.  But,  in  the  meantime, 
another  goal  was  beckoning — the  Wangoni  enclave  on  the 
southern  edge  of  the  plateau. 

From  the  day  of  my  leaving  Lindi  I  have  heard  all  sorts  of 
statements  as  to  these  Wangoni,  who  of  course  are  supposed 
to  be  akin  to  the  Kafir  tribes  of  that  name  on  the  eastern 


THE  WANGONI 


333 


shore  of  Lake  Nyasa.  On  one  of  the  many  raids  in  which 
these  tribes,  whether  called  Mazitu,  Mafiti,  Magwangwara, 
Wamachonde,  or  Wangoni,  have  more  or  less  laid  waste,  the 
whole  southern  part  of  German  East  Africa,  this  division  was 
separated  from  the  main  body  by  a  gallant  counter-attack  of 
the  Yaos  under  Matola  I,  and  driven  into  the  Nchichira  district, 
on  the  southern  edge  of  the  Makonde  plateau.  Nils  Knudsen 
had  more  information  to  give  me  than  this  ;  he  described  the 
Wangoni  as  splendid  figures  of  warriors,  in  every  respect 
immeasurably  superior  to  their  present  neighbours,  and  even 
to  his  beloved  Wayao.  And  if  I  wanted  to  see  regular  villages 
— rows  of  houses  with  fine  streets  between  them, — he  said,  I 
must  go  to  Nchichira.  "  So  I  will,  but  of  course  you  must 
come,  too,"  was  my  answer.  Honest  Nils  did  not  wait  for  a 
second  invitation  :  the  Rovuma  and  elephant-hunting  are  in 
his  mind  inseparably  connected,  and  I  think  he  would  w^alk 
straight  to  the  Congo  without  stopping,  if  anyone  told  him 
that  a  decent-sized  tusker  had  been  seen  there.  He  is  a  good 
shot,  too,  in  spite  of  the  unwieldy  old-fashioned  guns — in  a 
very  shaky  condition,  moreover — which  form  his  armoury. 

I  therefore  determined  on  an  excursion  to  Nchichira,  to 
see  something  of  the  Wangoni,  before  going  on  to  Mahuta, 
where  I  mean  to  spend  some  weeks  in  order  to  finish  my 
inquiries.  I  feel  already  as  if  I  had  collected  nearly  all  the 
information  I  am  capable  of  assimilating  at  present,  and  that 
there  is  some  danger  of  my  receptive  faculties  failing  me  one 
of  these  days,  amid  the  abundance  of  new  impressions. 

We  passed  Mahuta  on  our  march  from  Newala  to  Nchichira 
— the  easiest  march  yet  experienced.  Had  I  not  bestridden 
my  well-tried  old  mule,  I  could  have  wished  for  a  bicycle  ;  even 
a  motor  could  have  been  driven  quite  comfortably  along  this 
road.  No  steep  hills  and  no  deeply  eroded  gorges,  but  a  plain 
with  a  gentle  and  almost  imperceptible  eastward  slope,  covered 
throughout  with  dense  bush,  in  which  the  industrious  Makonde 
have  here  and  there  cleared  their  little  patches  for  cultivation, 
and  through  which  run  broad,  well-kept  roads,  sometimes 
perfectly  straight  for  a  kilometer  at  a  time.  The  Makonde 
have  certainly  not  made  these  roads  out  of  any  personal  interest 
in  improving  their  means  of  communication.  In  fact,  consider- 
able pressure  from  Lindi  was  needed  before  they  could  be 


334 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


got  to  accomplish  the  task  ;  but,  once  finished,  the  roads — 
everywhere  wide  enough  for  a  column,  and  sometimes  for  a 
section,  to  march  abreast— are  equal  to  every  strategic  require- 
ment. The  only  thing  calculated  to  diminish  the  pleasures  of 
travel  is  the  loose,  deep  sand,  which,  however,  one  is  thankful 


MY    ESCORT  HALTED  AT  HENDERERA's  VILLAGE  IN   THE  MAKONDE  HIGHLANDS 


to  find  does  not  occur  everywhere,  but  only  in  the  depressions, 
where  it  has  been  washed  down  from  the  higher  parts  of  the 
road.    In  these  spots  it  seems  all  but  bottomless. 

But  the  men's  delight  in  change  and  movement  would 
conquer  greater  difficulties  than  this  trifle.  The  bush  is  green, 
the  sun  has  just  dispelled  the  mists,  and  now  shines  down 
victoriously  on  black  and  white  alike  with  such  cheerfulness 
that  the  carriers  cannot  help  singing.  So  they  strike  up  their 
fine  old  Nyamwezi  songs  which  have  so  often  helped  us  over 
the  small  unpleasantnesses  of  the  march,  and  also  some  newly- 
composed  ones,  which,  heard  to-day  for  the  first  time,  are  still 
more  pleasing  than  the  old  repertoire. 

There  is  only  one  settlement  of  any  size  on  the  road  between 
Newala  and  Mahuta.  This  is  the  village  presided  over  by 
Henderera,  an  old  club-footed  Makonde  headman.  His 
ugliness  seems  to  have  impressed  even  my  carriers  ;  at  least 
one  of  them,  a  few  days  later,  brought  me  a  sketch-book,  in 
which  the  old  man  was  most  faithfully  portrayed.  Henderera's 
village  is  laid  out  on  a  surprisingly  large  scale  ;  the  open  space 


MAHUTA 


335 


round  which  the  huts  are  grouped  is  large  enough  for  a  company 
of  German  soldiers  to  exercise  in,  and  my  scant  dozen  warriors 
make  a  very  poor  show  in  it. 

The  homa  of  Mahuta  is  conspicuous  at  a  great  distance  by 
its  pahsade  and  an  unusually  large  drill-ground.  In  fact,  all 
trees  and  bushes  have  been  cleared  away  to  a  distance  of  at  least 
a  couple  of  hundred  yards  all  round  the  fort.  In  front  of  the 
main  entrance — a  small  gateway  scarcely  wdde  enough  for  one 
man  to  pass — I  see  the  Wall's  whole  force  drawn  up  ;  five 
baharia,  black  fellow^s  in  khaki  sailor-suits,  who  are  making 
convulsive  efforts  to  get  into  tolerable  alignment.  The  Wali  is 
not  visible  ;  he  is  at  the  coast,  I  am  told.  The  commanding 
officer  is  just  bellowing  "  Present  arms  !  "  when  I  am  unkind 
enough  to  leave  the  road  to  the  homa  and  turn  to  the  right. 
A  few  hundred  yards  on  one  side  of  the  homa,  and  behind  it,  I 
see  the  house  which  was  long  ago  named  in  my  honour  and  in 
which  it  is  surely  my  bounden  duty  to  take  up  m}^  quarters. 
This  is  a  building  which  Mr.  Ewerbeck,  in  anticipation  of  our 
working  together  at  Mahuta,  caused  to  be  erected  for  our 
common  use  some  months  ago.  The  architect  was  punctually 
at  hand  on  the  day  fixed  for  the  house-warming,  but  his  guest 
had  been  grappled  with  hooks  of  steel  by  the  ethnological 
interests  of  Chingulungulu.  Half  in  sadness,  half  in  vexation, 
Ewerbeck  moved  in  by  himself,  bestowed  on  the  house  the 
sign  of  "  The  Professor  who  Never  Came,"  and,  finally,  took 
his  own  departure.  Scarcely  had  the  five  sailors  become  aware 
of  my  intention  before  they  were  off  like  hghtning.  I  rode 
after  them  at  a  round  trot,  but  nevertheless  the  "Ready! 
Present  arms  !  Eyes  left  !  "  came  quite  in  time.  I  must  say 
they  are  smart  at  their  drill,  these  black  lads  ! 

The  house  at  the  sign  of  "  The  Professor  who  Never  Came  " 
has  a  magnificent  situation.  From  its  verandah,  or  from 
the  steps  leading  to  it,  we  look  into  a  deep  ravine  yawning 
immediately  at  our  feet.  On  both  sides  is  a  splendid  forest 
of  large  timber  trees — the  Makonde  avoid  steep  slopes  in  their 
destructive  system  of  farming — and,  in  the  far  distance  behind 
the  spot  where  the  ravine  (which  must  be  some  twelve  miles 
long)  is  closed  in  by  two  projecting  spurs  of  the  plateau,  we 
see  a  pale  grey  strip  with  a  silver  streak  in  it.  That  is  the 
Rovuma.    Behind  it  again  is  a  shining  mirror — the  Lidede 


336 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Lake,^  and  behind  that,  in  dark,  dull-green  contours,  the  level 
of  the  Mavia  plateau.  After  the  monotony  of  the  Makonde 
Highlands,  the  scenery  of  Mahuta  is  indeed  refreshing. 

We  continued  our  march  on  the  following  day.  Hour  after 
hour,  the  long-drawn-out  line  of  the  caravan  wound  its  way 
between  the  green  walls  of  the  bush.  The  aspect  of  the  latter 
had  now  undergone  a  change.  It  was  not  so  high,  and  the 
place  of  the  terrible  thorns  was  taken  by  a  perfect  exuberance  of 
plant-forms  reminding  me  of  our  box-thorn  (Lycium  harharum). 
As  the  sun  rose  higher,  the  heat  in  the  narrow  pass  now  forming 
the  road  became  more  stifling,  and  the  sand  of  the  soil  finer 
and  deeper.  At  last  we  reached  Nchichira,  which,  like  Masasi, 
Newala  and  Mahuta,  possesses  a  homa—d.  square  enclosure  of 
about  100  yards  to  a  side,  surrounded  by  a  palisade  of  stout 
logs.  This  contains  the  dwellings  of  the  Akida  and  the  other 
officials  of  a  subordinate  German  administrative  centre.  In  the 
months  which  have  passed  since  we  left  Lindi,  my  men 
have  become  thoroughly  proficient  in  pitching  and  breaking 
camp.  One,  two,  three,  and  my  tent  is  in  place — and  in 
an  equally  short  time  we  have  installed  ourselves  under  the 
low  baraza.  It  is  no  more  comfortable  than  our  previous 
abodes,  but  I  prefer  a  strong  thatched  roof  to  the  necessity 
of  living  in  the  hot  tent,  or  to  a  freshly-built  banda  with  its 
abundance  of  all  sorts  of  vermin.  In  such  structures  insects 
incessantly  rain  down  from  the  newly-cut  grass  on  one's  head 
and  body,  and  into  all  the  plates  and  dishes. 

The  twelve  days  at  Nchichira  passed  like  a  dream.  Not  that 
I  really  did  any  dreaming  :  the  excessive  amount  of  work 
awaiting  me  there  prevented  that.  Just  because  I  have  not 
yet  attained  a  clear  consciousness  of  the  impressions  received — 
have,  so  to  speak,  not  digested  the  abundant  repast  set  before 
me — the  whole  time  of  my  stay  seems,  on  looking  back,  like 
a  confused  reverie.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  its  details 
here,  but  only  to  note  the  most  striking  points. 

I  can  find  no  trace  of  the  heroic  qualities  alleged  to  be 
possessed  by  the  Wangoni.  These  fellows  do  not  seem  to 
differ  much,  physically  or  mentally,  from  the  other  tribes  in 
this  region  ;  in  fact,  to  confess  the  honest  truth,  their  physique 
is  somewhat  inferior.    Moreover,  many  of  them  are  diseased. 

1  Discovered  by  Consul  O'Neill  in  1882.— [Tr.] 


THE  WANGONI  A  FRAUD 


337 


I  was  confronted  with  a  ghastly  sight  one  day,  when  following 
a  strange  track  in  the  sand  which  I  took  to  be  that  of  a  python, 
I  went  round  to  the  back  of  a  hut  and  found  seated  there  a 
living  skeleton — a  man  without  a  vestige  of  flesh  or  muscle 
on  his  whole  body.  He  had  been  dragged  along  in  a  sitting 
posture  by  a  compassionate  small  boy,  thus  producing  the  track 
I  had  noticed.    This  disease  is  called  uhuha. 


NATIVE  SUFFERING  FROM  THE   r  Br  R.I  DISEASE 


The  only  really  tall  man  is  old  Makachu,  the  headman  of  the 
neighbouring  village,  and  at  the  same  time  the  chief  of  one  of 
the  two  clans  into  which  the  Wangoni  living  here  are  divided.  I 
measured  Makachu  and  found  his  height  to  be  a  fraction  under 
six  feet.  If  this  stature  makes  him  look  like  Saul  among  his 
people,  it  is  obvious  how  very  poorly  developed  the  rest  of 
them  must  be.  Indeed  the  old  men  of  the  tribe,  as  they  drag 
themselves  up  to  the  haraza  to  talk  to  me,  seem  quite  emaciated 
with  chronic  under-feeding  ;  and  the  rising  generation  does  not 
promise  much  better.  "  No— these  are  no  Zulus,"  I  said  to 
myself  on  first  seeing  them  ;  and  I  have  since  found  this 
conclusion  confirmed  by  all  sorts  of  proofs. 

22 — (2131) 


338  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


In  the  first  place,  there  is  not  a  single  South  African  touch 
in  the  arrangement  and  construction  of  their  huts.  The  widely- 
scattered  villages,  through  which  we  have  marched  for  the  last 
few  hours  of  the  road  from  Mahuta,  are  exactly  like  the  villages 
in  the  plains  west  of  the  plateau.     The  only  difference  is  that 


MAJALIWA,   SAIDI  AND  MAKACHU 


the  fields  here  appear  to  be  better  kept,  and  to  have  been 
better  cleared  and  broken  up,  to  begin  with.  But  then  it  is 
one  thing  to  clear  ground  in  a  large  timber  forest,  and  another 
to  burn  off  the  sort  of  bush  that  grows  up  in  these  parts.  The 
details  of  hut-construction,  too,  are  exactly  the  same,  and  the 
interiors  just  as  wildly  untidy,  and  furnished  with  the  same 
sort  of  grain-stores,  pots  and  bark  boxes,  the  same  bedsteads 
and  the  same  smouldering  log  on  the  hearth  as  at  Mchauru  or 
Akundonde's  ;    while  the  outer  walls  are  daubed  over  with 


THE  ZULU  MIGRATION 


339 


the  same  sort  of  childish  paintings  found  elsewhere  in  the 
country. 

But  let  us  consider  the  language  and  history  of  this  group 
of  people.  Among  my  carriers  we  have  in  the  person  of 
Mambo  sasa  a  genuine  Zulu,  a  Mngoni  from  Runsewe.  These 
Wangoni  are  the  descendants  of  that  wave  of  Zulus  which 
penetrated  furthest  north.  While  the  main  body  of  the 
warriors  who,  three  quarters  of  a  century  ago,  crossed  the 
Zambezi,  ^  settled  on  both  shores  of  Nyasa,  and  founded  king- 
doms there,  amid  sanguinary  struggles,  these  Wangoni  kept  on 
northward  along  the  eastern  shore  of  Tanganyika,  till  their 
advance,  too,  was  checked  in  north-western  Unyamwezi. 
Under  the  name  of  Watuta,  the  descendants  of  these  first 
conquerors  continued  their  predatory  career  for  some  decades, 
till  Captain  Langheld,  in  the  nineties,  settled  them  in  the  bush 
at  Runsewe  w^here  they  now  live.  "  Now%  Mambo  sasa,  you 
can  go  ahead  and  interpret  !  "  I  remarked  to  my  merry  friend, 
when  the  Wangoni  made  their  appearance.  I  have  already 
more  than  once  mentioned  Mambo  ;  he  is  jester-in-ordinary 
to  the  whole  company  ;  his  voice,  though  not  melodious,  is 
powerful  and  untiring,  and  his  improvised  ditties  never  cease 
during  the  day,  whether  on  the  march  or  in  camp.  With  the 
Wangoni  of  Nchichira  confronting  the  Mngoni  from  Runsewe, 
I  prepared  to  take  notes  in  my  usual  way.  Mambo,  when  I 
had  made  sure  that  he  understood  my  first  question,  repeated 
it  in  his  mother-tongue — but  there  was  no  answer  ;  the  men 
sirhply  stared  at  him  in  bewilderment.  Repeated  experiments 
led  to  the  same  result  ;  it  was  abundantly  clear  that  the  alleged 
fellow-tribesmen  could  not  understand  one  another's  speech. 
Subsequently  I  questioned  both  parties  separately,  and  noted 
down  as  much  of  their  respective  languages  as  the  incredible 
and  equal  stupidity  of  the  good  Mambo  sasa  and  the  Nchichira 
elders  would  allow.  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  get  a 
connected  view  of  the  result,  my  supposition  is  confirmed  ; 
the  Wangoni  of  this  district  have  nothing  beyond  the  name 
in  common  with  those  in  the  hill  country  near  Songea.  They 

1  The  late  Dr.  Elmslie  computed  that  this  crossing  must  have  taken 
place  in  1825,  as  Ngoni  tradition  states  that  an  eclipse  (during  which 
the  chief  Mombera,  who  died  in  1892,  was  prematurely  born)  occurred 
at  the  time. — [Tr.] 


340  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


are  just  such  a  congeries  of  broken  tribes  as  we  find  elsewhere 
in  the  south  of  our  colony. 

A  clear  proof  that  I  am  right  in  the  above  opinion  was 
afforded  me  when  talking  over  the  history  of  the  tribe.  After 
the  giant  Makachu,  my  principal  informant  is  old  Majaliwa, 
within  the  area  of  whose  village  the  homa  is  built,  and  whose 
guests,  in  a  manner  of  speaking,  we  therefore  are.  He  is  also 
the  chief  of  the  second  clan  previously  mentioned.  The 
younger  and  more  "  educated  "  element  is  represented  by 
Saidi,  the  teacher  at  Nkundi,  who  arrived  to  act  as  interpreter 
in  response  to  my  urgent  appeal  for  his  help.  The  people  here 
are,  after  all,  too  primitive  for  anything.  Half-a-dozen  other 
men,  mostly  elderly,  who  seem  more  concerned  with  expecto- 
rating all  over  my  haraza  than  with  adding  to  my  knowledge  of 
their  tribal  history,  serve  to  fill  up  the  background  behind  the 
above  three  worthies. 

In  the  first  place  Majaliwa  and  Makachu  enlighten  me  as  to 
their  respective  families.  The  former  belongs  to  the  lukohu 
(=  lukosyo)  of  the  Makale,  the  latter  to  that  of  the  Wakwama. 
Makachu,  the  effect  of  whose  fine  stature  is  somewhat  spoilt  by 
very  high  shoulders,  between  which  his  head  appears  quite 
sunk,  then,  uninvited,  begins  to  relate  how  he  w^as  born  near  the 
Lukimwa  River,  but  his  people  were  driven  thence  to  the 
Mluhezi  when  he  w^as  a  boy.  Quite  mechanically,  at  the  word 
boy,  the  old  man,  as  he  sits  on  the  ground,  raises  his  arm  to  a 
horizontal  position,  and  as  mechanically  his  hand  rises  so  as 
to  make  a  right  angle  with  his  arm.  It  was  the  Wangoni,  he 
goes  on,  who  drove  them  away. 

"  The  Wangoni  ?  "  I  ask  in  astonishment,  "  but  you  are  a 
Mngoni  yourself  !  " 

"  Yes,  but  it  was  the  Wangoni,  all  the  same." 

I  thought  it  best  for  the  moment  not  to  confuse  the  old 
man,  so  made  no  further  remark,  and  he  went  on  :  "  When 
my  beard  was  just  beginning  to  grow  " — Makachu's  short 
beard  is  now  quite  white — "  the  Wangoni  came  again,  but 
that  time  they  were  as  many  as  the  locusts,  and  we  were  driven 
away  as  far  as  Namagone's." 

I  always,  of  course,  have  my  only  and  highly-prized  map 
handy,  and  a  glance  at  it  shows  me  that  such  a  chief  as  Nama- 
gone  really  exists,  and  that  his  village  is  on  the  right  bank  of 


A  COLLECTION  OF  BROKEN  CLANS  341 


the  Rovuma,  in  38°  26'  E.  longitude,  so  that  one  troop  of  these 
Wangoni  must  at  some  time  or  other  during  their  retreat 
have  got  as  far  east  as  this.  This  was  confirmed  by  several 
other  men  sitting  by.  Kambale  says  that  he,  too,  was  at 
Namagone's  when  a  boy,  and  Liambaku,  a  younger  brother  of 
Majaliwa's,  states  that  he  was  born  at  the  Lukimwa. 

Makachu  is  just  about  to  continue  his  narrative  when 
Majaliwa,  the  senior  of  those  present,  opens  his  withered  mouth, 
with  its  worn-down  stumps  of  teeth,  to  say  :  "  From  the 
Lukimwa  we  went  to  Kandulu's,  the  Yao  chief  ;  the  Wangoni 
drove  us  away  from  there  ;  first  we  went  to  Namagone's,  and 
then  to  Makachu's,  where  we  remained  a  year.  But  the 
Wangoni  came  again  and  drove  us  out  once  more,  and  we  came 
to  Nchichira.  But  even  here  they  have  attacked  us  once,  and 
that  was  at  the  time  when  3^ou  Wadachi  (Germans)  built 
your  homa  at  Lindi." 

No  one  else  offers  to  speak,  so  that  I  can  put  in  a  word 
in  my  turn. 

"  You  have  so  much  to  say  of  the  evil  the  Wangoni  have 
done  you,  but  are  they  not  your  brothers  ?  " 

Lively  gesticulation  all  round  the  circle.  "No,"  is  the 
unanimous  answer,  "  they  are  our  worst  enemies." 

"  But  surely  you  can  understand  and  speak  their  language  ?  " 
Again  a  most  decided  negative.  Further  cross-questioning 
elicited  the  following  explanation  : — 

"  We  people  of  Nchichira  call  ourselves  Wangoni,  but  we 
call  the  people  from  Songea  ]\Iafiti.  They  came  from  a  far 
country  long  ago,  but  we  do  not  know  what  country  they 
came  from.  Our  fathers  always  lived  on  the  Lukimwa,  and 
if  it  were  not  that  the  evil  Mafiti  had  raided  us  so  often,  we 
should  be  living  there  still.  We  are  no  kin  to  the  Wamatambwe, 
but  we  are  good  friends  with  the  Wayao  ;  our  fathers  always 
took  refuge  with  them  in  time  of  war." 

A  detailed  study  of  the  Wangoni  at  Nchichira  thus  shows 
that,  as  already  stated,  they  are  a  conglomerate  of  all  possible 
elements,  who  during  the  long  Mafiti  troubles  fled  to  this 
remote  corner  and  became  amalgamated  into  a  sort  of  tribal 
unit  of  their  own.  How  much  they  resemble — or  try  to 
resemble — the  Yaos,  nothing  shows  more  clearly  than  the  fact 
that  almost  all  the  women  wear  the  kipini  or  nose-stud  ;  the 


342  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


pelele  is  quite  a  rarity  among  them.  Though  disappointed  of 
the  new  and  strange  traits  I  had  hoped  to  meet  with,  had  the 
Wangoni  proved  to  be  true  Zulus,  I  cannot  help  feeling  a  certain 
pride  in  correcting  the  old  mistaken  view  of  these  people  which 
is  even  now  current  on  the  coast  :  yet  I  cannot  deny  that  the 
discovery  made  me  less  unwilling  to  leave  Nchichira  than  I 
should  otherwise  have  been. 

Knudsen  has  been  spending  the  whole  time  which  I  have 
devoted  to  my  inquiries  among  the  Wangoni  elders,  hunting 
in  the  alluvial  valley  of  the  Rovuma,  with  its  rich  variety 
of  high,  dense  forest,  tangled  scrub,  and  open,  meadow-like 
glades.  I  often  thought  I  could  hear  his  gun,  so  close  under 
the  homa  of  Nchichira  do  these  hunting-grounds  lie,  and, 
more  than  once,  standing  on  the  plateau,  I  have  fancied  my 
eye  could  follow  his  stooping  figure  as  he  advanced  quickly 
and  yet  cautiously  along  the  bottom  of  the  valley. 

The  one  evening  walk  possible  at  Nchichira  is  very  short, 
but  reveals  almost  an  excess  of  beauty.  The  sun  has  just 
set  behind  the  distant  Nyasa,  and,  quite  exhausted,  I  lay  aside 
pencil  and  note-book,  light  a  fresh  cigar  (we  have  had  in  a 
supply  by  this  time,  not  derived  from  the  Indian's  store  at 
Lindi,  but  genuine  Leipzig  ones),  beckon  my  camera-bearers 
to  follow,  and  leave  the  homa  at  a  good  round  pace.  We  walk 
along  the  palisade  till  it  comes  to  an  end,  and  then  we  have 
reached  the  goal  ;  the  Rovuma  Valley  in  all  its  glory  is  lying 
immediately  at  my  feet.  It  is  no  easy  task  to  depict  a  sunset 
in  words,  and  here,  where  to  the  peculiar  character  of  the 
country,  with  its  remarkable  contrasts  between  the  highest 
degree  of  erosion  and  the  greatest  amount  of  alluvial 
accumulation  is  added  an  indescribable  richness  of  colour  in 
the  evening  sky,  the  pen  fails — if  only  because  m  the  presence 
of  such  beauty  it  is  impossible  for  a  person  of  any  feeling  to  put 
his  impressions  on  paper.  If  I  could  photograph  in  colours 
what  a  picture  I  should  have  !  But  as  I  am  confined  to  the 
use  of  common,  or  at  most  orthocromatic  plates,  I  shall  have 
to  do  the  best  I  can  with  my  note-book,  after  reaching  home, 
to  give  some  idea  of  the  glory  I  have  been  witnessing. 

The  plateau,  here,  at  the  centre  of  its  southern  edge,  is  much 
lower  than  at  Newala  ;  it  may  be  estimated  at  from  1,300  to 
1,500  feet.    And  yet  the  valley  of  the  Rovuma,  with  a  breadth 


FORMATION  OF  THE  ROVUMA  VALLEY  343 


of  from  six  to  nine  miles  and  a  height  above  sea-level,  at  its 
lowest  point,  of  barely  200  feet,  makes  the  impression  of  a  vast 
eroded  ravine.  Its  two  edges  are  absolutely  similar,  and  it 
must  be  clear  to  any  child  that  the  Mavia  plateau  on  the  other 


FOREST  RUINED   BY  NATIVES  NEAR  NCHICHIRA,   ROVUMA  VALLEY 


side  and  the  Makonde  highlands  on  this  are  of  the  same  age 
and  have  the  same  origin.  The  Rovuma,  working  downward 
like  a  saw,  has  gradually  excavated  this  cafion  across  the  old 
tableland.  Now  at  the  end  of  the  dry  season,  the  river  looks 
more  poverty-stricken  than  ever — a  scanty  thread  of  water 
trickhng  along  a  bed  over  half-a-mile  wide,  filled  with  enormous 
banks  of  gravel  and  sand.  The  river  in  flood  must  be  a  grand 
sight,  but  to-day  the  prevailing  note  of  the  scenery  is  gentle 
and  cheerful.  A  whole  series  of  terraces  marking  different 
flood-levels  are  visible  to  the  naked  eye  below  us,  while  similar 
ones  can  be  made  out  with  a  field-glass  on  the  Portuguese 
side  of  the  river.  The  grey  strip  with  the  shining  silver 
thread  in  it  looks  near  enough  to  be  touched  by  the  hand, 
yet  Knudsen  says  it  is  a  good  two  hours'  walk  to  the  river-bank 


344  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


— so  deceptive  is  the  wonderfully  clear  air.  It  is  true 
that  here,  too,  there  are  clouds  of  smoke  rising  to  the  sky — 
they  are  at  times  particularly  dense  and  frequent  on  the  other 
side  of  the  valley,  between  the  river  and  the  Nangadi  Lake. 
I  am  almost  tempted  to  think  that  the  Ma  via  want  to  smoke 
out  the  unlucky  Portuguese  who  is  probably  meditating  in  his 
ho7na — easily  distinguishable  with  the  glass — on  the  reason 
why  he  has  been  condemned  to  pass  his  life  here  :  so  numerous 
are  the  concentric  zones  of  fire  which  seem  to  surround  his 
lonely  abode.  To  our  right  the  grey  bed  of  the  river  with  its 
green  margins  stretches  away  westward  till  it  is  lost  in  the 
distance.  The  Lidede  Lake  is  by  no  means  near,  yet  it,  too,  by 
an  effect  of  perspective,  seems  to  lie  at  our  feet,  so  far  can  I  look 
beyond  it  into  the  interior  of  the  continent.  And  over  all  this 
the  western  and  southern  horizon  glows  in  a  thousand  brilliant 
tints.  It  almost  seems  as  if  the  sun,  for  love  of  so  much  beauty, 
were  departing  less  quickly  than  he  usually  does  between  the 
tropics ;  the  sunset  hues  pale  and  fade  away  only  very 
gradually.  It  was  with  difficulty  that  I  could  tear  myself 
away  from  this  picture  in  order  to  take  one  or  two  photographs 
of  it  with  my  smallest  stop,  while  my  dark  friends  stood  behind 
me  in  silence,  evidently  as  much  impressed  as  their  master. 
At  first  the  darkness  came  on  by  slow  degrees,  but  after  a 
while  the  shadows,  growing  deeper  and  deeper,  descended 
more  quickly  over  Lidede  and  Nangadi  ;  then  the  first  sombre 
tones  touched  the  meadows  and  the  green  forest,  and  only  the 
light  grey  of  the  river  bed  showed  up  for  a  while  amid  the 
gathering  darkness.  I  am  a  very  prosaic  person,  on  the  whole  ; 
but  I  am  quite  willing  to  admit  that  a  single  sunset  like  this 
would  have  amply  repaid  me  for  the  march  to  Nchichira,  even 
had  I  found  no  Wangoni  living  there. 

In  this  valley,  then.  Nils  Knudsen  has  been  pursuing  the 
pleasures  of  the  chase.  At  any  time,  the  first  chance  native 
who  comes  to  him  with  the  remark,  "  Master,  there  are  ele- 
phants down  there,"  is  enough  to  send  him  off  in  ten  minutes 
at  the  best  pace  of  which  his  rolling  seaman's  gait  will  permit. 
He  is  sensible  enough,  however,  to  trust  no  longer  to  his 
ancient  blunderbusses,  but  has  asked  me  for  the  loan  of  one 
of  my  rifles. 

One  afternoon,  I  am  sitting  as  usual  with  my  native  tutors. 


AN  ELEPHANT  BAGGED 


345 


Our  Kingoni  studies  are  not  progressing  very  satisfactorily. 
If  I  direct  the  intelligent  Saidi  to  translate,  "  Your  father  is 
dead,"  I  infalhbly  get  a  sentence  which,  when  afterwards 
checked,  turns  out  to  mean,  "  My  father  is  dead."  If  I  want 
him  to  tell  me  the  Kingoni  for  "  My  father  is  dead,"  he  trans- 
lates (quite  correctly  from  his  point  of  view),  "  Your  father," 
etc.,  etc.  I  am  now  so  far  used  to  these  little  jokes  that  they 
no  longer  excite  me,  but  a  worse  difficulty  lies  in  ascertaining 
the  forms  of  the  personal  pronouns  :  "I,  thou,"  etc.  They 
caused  me  no  end  of  trouble  even  at  Newala,  where  my  teachers 
were  by  no  means  stupid.  Here,  w^hatever  I  do,  I  cannot 
succeed  in  getting  the  third  person  singular  and  plural.  I  have 
arrived  at  the  first  and  second,  of  course,  by  the  rule  of 
contraries  ;  for,  if  I  say  "  I,"  involuntarily  pointing  to  myself, 
I  am  sure  to  get  the  word  for  "  you,"  and  vice  versa.  Resigning 
myself  to  disappointment,  I  am  just  about  to  light  a  cigar  to 
soothe  my  nerves,  when  I  become  aware  of  a  perceptible 
excitement  all  round  me.  At  a  rate  compared  with  which 
Pheidippides  must  have  come  from  Marathon  at  a  snail's 
pace,  one  of  Knudsen's  boys  arrives,  spluttering  out  something 
which  I  cannot  understand.  My  men  are  all  assembled  in  no 
time,  and  from  them  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  homa  I  hear 
the  news  of  Knudsen's  success  in  bringing  down  a  large 
elephant.  Its  tusks  are  "  so  big  " — the  fellows  stretch  out 
their,  long,  gibbon-like  arms  to  show  their  girth — and  as  for 
meat  .  .  .  !  I  could  see  how  their  mouths  were  watering  at 
the  thought. 

That  day  and  the  next  were  entirely  dominated  by  the  slain 
elephant.  The  men  kept  bringing  in  veritable  mountains  of 
meat,  and  the  whole  country-side  smelt  anything  but  agreeably 
of  African  cooking.  Then  arrived  the  four  feet,  then  the 
tusks,  and  last  of  all  the  successful  hunter  himself.  His 
triumph,  however,  was  somewhat  damped  by  the  fact  that 
the  tusks  were  small  in  proportion  to  the  size  of  the  animal, 
weighing,  by  our  reckoning,  certainly  not  over  forty  pounds. 
To  make  up  for  this,  he  brought  me  another  piece  of  news, 
to  my  mind  much  more  welcome  ;  the  people  in  the  valley 
had  houses  of  a  style  totally  different  from  anything  to  be 
seen  up  here — in  fact,  constructions  of  several  stories.  Nils 
was  obliged  to  asseverate  this  in  the  most  solemn  way  before 


346 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


1  would  believe  him  ;  but  once  convinced  of  his  bona  fides, 
I  could  not  stay  another  day  on  the  plateau.  Early  the  very 
next  morning,  we  were  clambering  like  monkeys  down  its 
bordering  cliffs  into  the  river-valley. 

For  the  last  few  days  we  have  been  encamped  here  close  to 
the  left  bank  of  the  main  river,  in  the  scanty  shade  of  stunted 
trees,  surrounded  by  a  tangle  of  reeds  and  tall  grass,  in  which 
our  people  with  some  trouble  cleared  a  place  for  the  tents.  At 
this  spot  there  is  an  extensive  view  both  up  and  down  stream, 
and,  for  a  wonder,  this  reach  is  free  from  the  islands  which 
elsewhere  obstruct  the  channel,  so  that  the  eye  can  range 
unhindered  across  a  sea  of  sandbanks  to  the  further  shore. 
The  steep,  eroded  banks  whose  acquaintance  we  made  on  the 
central  course  of  the  river  are  here,  too,  the  rule.  Sitting  at 
the  top  of  one  of  these  steep  slopes,  it  requires  some  skill  to 
hit  the  hippos  which  from  time  to  time  unexpectedly  rise  in 
the  river  ;  even  Nils,  usually  a  dead  shot,  misses  time  after 
time,  to  his  great  disgust.  These  slopes  are  the  only  picturesque 
point  in  the  vast  desolation  of  the  river-bed  where  nothing 
is  to  be  seen  except  sand  and  gravel,  gravel  and  sand. 
Between  these  great  masses  of  drift,  the  Rovuma  is  still  more 
broken  up  into  small  streams  than  is  the  case  higher  up  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Bangala,  and  the  wandering  Wamatambwe,  here 
more  numerous  than  on  the  upper  river,  have  no  need  to 
exercise  their  famous  powers  of  swimming  and  diving,  but 
can  wade  at  their  ease  across  the  shallow  channels. 

This  is  rather  unfortunate  for  Knudsen,  as  it  deprives  him 
of  an  opportunity  to  prove  the  truth  of  a  story  he  is  never 
tired  of  telling  me  about  the  Wamatambwe.  Not  content 
with  saying  that  they  are  excellent  swimmers,  and  not  afraid 
of  crocodiles,  partly  because  of  their  faith  in  the  charms  with 
which  they  are  always  provided  and  partly  because  they  are 
much  more  agile  in  the  water  than  the  reptiles — he  insists  that 
they  cross  the  river  at  its  highest  level,  when  the  current  is 
too  strong  to  launch  their  canoes,  by  simply  walking  through, 
though  the  water  is  far  above  their  heads.  Though  unable,  in 
face  of  his  superior  knowledge,  to  disprove  this  assertion,  I 
find  it  somewhat  difficult  to  believe. 

The  state  of  the  river,  as  I  have  already  remarked,  will  not 
allow  them  to  show  off  their  diving  at  present,  and  as  regards 


"CROCODILE  MEDICINE" 


347 


their  trust  in  the  dawa  for  protection  against  crocodiles,  my 
own  observation  does  not  bear  out  what  he  tells  me.  At  least, 
I  see  that  the  Wamatambwe  whom  he  sends  across  the  channel 
at  our  feet,  in  order  to  pick  up  the  numerous  ducks  shot  by 
him,  always  look  about  them  uneasily  when  they  chance  upon 
a  deeper  spot  and  make  the  best  of  their  way  to  shore. 

But  this  is  not  the  purpose  for  which  I  came  down  to  the 
Rovuma,  and  I  may  give  myself  credit  for  devoting  to  the 
river  only  the  afternoons  of  my  scanty  leisure.  Every  fore- 
noon is  occupied  with  the  discovery  as  to  which  Knudsen 
was  so  enthusiastic.  This  time,  for  once,  he  was  right  ;  but, 
as  the  simplest  photograph  tells  more  than  the  fullest 
description,  I  refer  the  reader  to  the  accompanying  illustrations 
and  only  give  such  additional  comments  as  are  absolutely 
necessary  to  make  them  comprehensible. 


348 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Our  departure  from  Nchichira  was  slightly  delayed  by  a 
warm  shower,  falling  in  straight,  vertical  lines  on  the  dry  sand. 
Both  nature  and  man  drew  a  long  breath  at  this  first  symptom 
of  the  approaching  rains.  But  the  pitiless  sun  reasserted  his 
rights  only  too  quickly,  and  the  procession  started  on  its  way, 
soon  vanishing  down  the  precipitous  slope.  After  descending 
a  few  yards,  the  steep  path  ceased  to  be  slippery  ;  hot,  dry 
stones  crunched  under  our  feet — the  atmosphere,  too,  into 
which  every  step  plunged  us  another  fraction  of  a  yard  deeper, 
was  likewise  hot  and  dry  ;  it  became  evident  that  the  rain 
must  here  have  evaporated  before  it  reached  the  ground.  At 
last  we  arrived  at  the  bottom  and  entered  a  dense  forest  of 
huge  trees.  But  even  here  we  did  not  find  the  pleasant 
coolness  of  our  German  forests  ;  the  air  we  encountered  was 
hot,  moist  and  mouldy-smelling,  and  the  foot  had  to  feel  its 
way  uncertainly  over  the  quaking  soil. 

"  If  the  Department  of  Woods  and  Forests  only  knew — 
there  is  plenty  of  timber  to  be  had  here  !  "  I  was  just  saying 
to  myself,  when  we  suddenly  came  to  the  end  of  it.  It  looked 
as  though  a  hurricane  had  passed,  or  an  avalanche  ploughed 
its  way  down  the  neighbouring  precipice.  The  mighty  boles 
lay  like  broken  matches,  across  one  another  in  all  directions  ; 
a  lamentable  sight  indeed  to  an  economical  European  eye. 
With  great  difficulty  we  scrambled  on  ;  the  ground  became 
drier  ;  here  and  there  we  stepped  into  heaps  of  ashes,  and  then 
a^glance  round  revealed  the  true  state  of  the  case.  Even  here, 
it  is  man  who  will  not  leave  nature  in  peace.  The  Makonde 
plateau,  with  its  area  of  6,000  square  miles,  might  surely  be 
expected  to  afford  subsistence  for  a  mere  trifle  of  80,000  or 
90,000  natives  with  their  simple  wants.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
however,  we  see  that  it  is  not  sufficient  for  them.  In  this  case 
the  underwood  had  been  cut  down  and  burnt  over  a  consider- 
able distance,  and  the  large  trees  had  been  attacked,  as  usual, 
with  axe  and  fire.  Everywhere  fallen  logs  still  smouldered,  and 
the  vanished  shapes  of  splendid  trees  were  traced  on  the  ground 
in  outlines  of  white  ashes.  While  I  was  still  gazing  in  horror 
at  the  work  of  destruction,  my  men  brought  forward  one  of 
the  criminals — no  other  than  old  Majaliwa  himself.  He  had 
his  axe  still  in  his  hand,  and  was  grinning  all  over  with  pride 
at  his  achievements. 


DESTRUCTION  OF  FORESTS  349 


German  East  Africa  has  no  superfluity  of  real,  commercially 
valuable  timber  ;  the  famous  Shume  forest  in  Usambara  and 
a  few  others  (remarkable  on  account  of  their  rarity)  are  but 
the  exceptions  proving  the  rule.  The  necessity,  therefore,  of 
protecting  the  hitherto  untouched  forest  areas  on  the  Rovuma 
from  the  wasteful  farming  of  the  natives  is  all  the  more  urgent. 
We  have  a  well-founded  right  to  prohibit  the  tribes  living  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  this  valley  from  cutting  down  a  single 
tree  in  it,  since  it  is  solely  in  consequence  of  the  security 
afforded  by  the  German  administration  that  they  are  able  to 
cultivate  any  new  ground  at  all  outside  their  hereditary  seats 
on  the  plateau.  If  the  honia  of  Nchichira  had  not  been  planted 
on  the  top  of  the  escarpment,  bidding  defiance  to  the  Mavia 
across  the  valley,  no  Mngoni  or  Makonde  would  dream  of 
sowing  a  single  grain  of  maize  beyond  the  edge  of  the  tableland. 
So  to-day,  knowing  that,  under  our  protection,  they  are  quite 
safe  from  Mavia  raids,  even  in  the  valley,  they  go  down  and 
destroy  our  finest  forests. 

A  little  farther  on,  having  reached  the  top  of  an  undulation 
in  the  soil,  we  at  last  came  to  the  wonder  we  were  in  search 
of — two  specimens  at  once.  With  astonishment  I  found 
myself  before  a  regular  tower,  and  saw  my  men  staring 
uncomprehendingly  at  a  style  of  architecture  quite  new  to 
them.  Majaliwa's  new  palace — it  was  here  then,  that  the  old 
man  retired  every  day  after  our  shauri  was  over — is  not, 
indeed,  as  Nils  Knudsen  had  asserted,  a  three-storied  house, 
but,  with  a  little  goodwill  we  can  easily  make  out  two  stories 
and  an  attic.  The  ground-floor  is  a  square  apartment  with 
grass  walls,  filled  with  pots,  calabashes,  ladles  and  the  rest  of 
a  native  woman's  household  requisites,  and  having  the  usual 
fire  smouldering  between  the  three  lumps  of  earth  in  the  centre. 
The  first  floor  is  much  more  elegantly  appointed,  only  the 
access  to  it  is  less  convenient  than  might  be  wished.  My  early 
training  in  gymnastics  enables  me  to  negotiate  without 
difliculty  the  primitive  ladder,  consisting  of  cross-pieces  lashed 
to  the  supporting  piles  at  intervals  of  about  a  yard  ;  but  they 
give  Knudsen  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  and  how  old  Majaliwa 
and  his  wife  get  up  it  every  night,  like  chickens  going  to  roost, 
is  beyond  my  comprehension.  Their  sleeping  apartment  is 
quite  comfortable — a  thick  layer  of  straw  covers  the  logs  of 


350  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


PILE-DWELLING  ON  THE  ROVUMA,   NEAR  NCHICHIRA 


the  floor,  and  the  mats  which  make  up  the  bedding  are  of  a 
quahty  by  no  means  to  be  despised.  As  the  matriarchate  is 
not  in  force  among  the  Wangoni,  no  rule  of  propriety  is  violated 
by  the  fact  that  Abdallah,  the  heir  to  the  house,  lives  in  the 
attic.  This,  too,  is,  for  a  native  dwelling,  very  neatly  arranged, 
with  its  soft  bed,  mats  and  baskets  of  provisions. 

Such  was  my  first  sight  of  the  pile-dwellings  of  this  region. 
It  was  followed  by  more  extensive  studies,  but  the  main 
features  of  these  constructions  are  everywhere  the  same.  My 
first  notion  as  to  the  reason  for  this  mode  of  building  was  that 
it  had  been  adopted  to  escape  the  mosquitoes  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  river,  and  also  for  safety  in  time  of  flood.  Some 
of  these  huts,  in  fact,  are  within  reach  of  the  inundations  during 
the  wet  season  ;  but  the  majority  are  placed  on  the  top  of 
ridges  well  beyond  high- water  mark.  If  we  ask  the  natives 
why  they  build  their  huts  in  this  particular  way,  the  answer 
is  always  the  same — "  Pembe  "  ("Elephants").  I  was  at 
first  unwilling  to  believe  this,  the  elephant  being  an  extremely 
shy  animal,  who,  under  all  circumstances,  avoids  the  vicinity 


DANGER  FROM  ELEPHANTS  351 


of  man  ;  but  I  was  informed  that  the  local  representatives  of 
the  species  are  of  a  somewhat  different  disposition  from  their 
congeners  elsewhere.  Only  a  few  days  before,  one  of  these 
monsters  had,  quite  unprovoked,  seized  a  Mngoni  going 
peaceably  about  his  business,  and  tossed  him  into  the  air.  In 
the  light  of  these  facts,  the  strong  palisade  surrounding  many 
of  these  high  structures  cannot  be  considered  an  unnecessary 
precaution.  In  any  case  the  discovery  of  this  pile-dwelling 
district  within  easy  reach  of  the  coast  was  almost  as  pleasant 
a  surprise  as  my  success  in  establishing  the  tribal  divisions 
at  Newala. 

The  heat  here  certainly  makes  us  wish  ourselves  back  in 
the  comparatively  low  temperature  of  that  place.  It  is 
impossible  to  remain  even  a  minute  in  the  tent  during  the 
daytime,  the  thermometer  there  standing  at  over  104  °,  while 
even  under  our  banda  (a  hastily  erected  grass  shelter),  we  are 
sitting  perspiring  at  98°  and  99°.  The  evening  gale  which  was 
the  terror  of  our  lives  at  Newala  is  here  entirely  absent,  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  we  are  tormented  by  a  legion  of  mosquitoes, 
from  which  we  can  only  escape  by  retiring  under  our  nettings 
soon  after  sunset. 

Have  you  anything  more  on  your  mind  ?  "  I  have  just 
asked  the  indefatigable  Knudsen,  who  seems  quite  worn  out. 

I  mean,"  I  add,  seeing  that  he  does  not  at  once  understand, 
"  have  you  any  more  ethnographical  curiosities  in  reserve  ?  " 
Not  that  I  know  of,"  is  his  answer. 

"  Well,  then,  let  us  march  again  to-day,  as  far  as  the  boma 
of  Nchichira,  and  to-morrow  morning  at  4.45  we  will  leave 
for  Mahuta." 

"  Let  us  do  so  at  once,  by  all  means  !  "  replies  Knudsen,  and 
goes  into  his  tent  to  change  his  soaking  khaki  suit. 


CHAPTER  XVII 


ACHIEVEMENT 

Mahuta,  November  8,  1906. 

Now  for  the  dessert  to  my  feast  of  research.  If  all  its  com- 
ponents have  not  been  equally  appetising,  yet  several  of  the 
courses  have  been  good — some  of  them,  indeed,  very  good — 
and  there  have  been  many  dainty  tit-bits  ;  while  the  dessert 
is  quite  in  character  with  the  whole  : — no  further  tax  on  the 
digestive  powers,  but  a  pleasant,  gradual  transition  to  the 
after-dinner  cigar,  the  coffee  and  bitters.  Thus  has  Mahuta, 
so  far,  appeared  to  me. 

How  ceremonious,  to  begin  with,  was  our  reception  !  It 
is  true  that  all  Africans  have  the  finest  manners,  whether  they 
have  already  assumed  the  white  kanzu  of  the  Coast  men,  or 
walk  about  in  the  scanty  loincloth  of  primitive  man.  It 
has  always  been  a  matter  of  course,  at  every  place  I  have 
visited  in  this  country,  for  the  elders  of  the  village  to  come 
out  to  meet  me  and  pay  their  respects.  But  Abdallah  bin 
Malim,  Wali  of  Mahuta,  surpasses  them  all  in  the  accurate 
formality  with  which  he  greeted  me.  It  is  not  for  nothing 
that  he  holds  the  highest  position  in  this  district  ;  and  we  were 
disposed  to  feel  ashamed  of  our  stained  and  shabby  khaki  suits, 
and  our  generally  dusty  and  dilapidated  condition,  when  the 
Wali,. dressed  in  the  long,  black,  embroidered  coat  of  the  Coast 
Arab,  and  carrying  a  silver-mounted  sword  in  his  hand,  met  us 
long  before  we  reached  Mahuta. 

Our  quarters,  too,  looked  very  promising.  Having  squeezed 
ourselves  into  the  homa  through  an  incredibly  narrow  gap 
in  the  palisade,  we  were  struck  with  admiration.  The  enclosure 
is  nearly  twice  the  size  of  all  others  we  have  seen  ;  and  a  wide 
avenue  of  rubber  trees  and  Mauritius  aloes  runs  across  it  from 
one  gate  to  the  other.  The  dwellings  are  placed  in  orderly 
arrangement  on  either  side  of  this  avenue.  The  sight  of  the 
solidly-built  rest-house  made  it  easy  for  me  to  dispense  with 

352 


THE  WALI  OF  MAHUTA 


353 


the  Professor's  house  out  by  the  ravine.  Before  long  our  tents 
had  been  pitched  in  the  open  space,  while  the  carriers  and 
soldiers  distributed  themseh^es,  according  to  custom,  among 
the  various  huts  and  rooms  of  the  people  inhabiting  the  boma. 
We  were  scarcely  settled  when  Abdallah  thought  fit  to  call  on 
us.  Being  still  in  his  festive  garments,  he  seemed  to  feel 
justified  in  claiming  Knudsen's 
long  chair  for  himself.  I  was 
busy  bathing  my  left  foot,  which 
I  sprained  on  board  the 
Prinzregent,  and  which  has  given 
me  an  immense  amount  of  pain 
and  discomfort  throughout  the 
last  few  months.  Abdallah's  voice 
was  loud  and  not  melodious  ;  he 
talked  unceasingly,  and  expecto- 
rated all  over  the  place  with  a 
freedom  and  marksmanship  which 
might  have  been  envied  by  the 
proverbial  Yankee.  Notwith- 
standing my  ingrained  respect  for 
government  officials,  regardless  of 
colour,  I  was  compelled  at  last,  in 
the  interests  of  self-preservation, 
to  get  Knudsen  to  call  the  Wali's 
attention  to  the  unseemliness  of 
his  behaviour; — why,  not  even  the 
washenzi — the  pagans  of  the  bush 
— would  do  thus  in  the  presence  of 
the  Bwana  Mkuhwa.     The  hint 

THE    WALI    OF  MAHLTA 

took  immediate  effect. 

It  is  now  eight  a.m.,  the  sun  is  already  tolerably  high — 
at  this  season  it  is  quite  vertical  over  Mahuti  at  noon — and 
the  two  Europeans  are  enjoying  the  delicious  morning  air. 
The  air  of  Mahuta  would  make  it  an  admirable  health-resort, 
no  troublesome  heat  or  uncomfortable  cold,  no  mist  and  no 
gale,  but  excellent  drinking-water  hard  by  at  the  edge  of  the 
plateau,  a  clean  haraza  and  plenty  of  fowls — what  can  heart 
desire  more^  We  are  just  enjoying  our  morning  cigars,  when 
we  hear  a  strange  noise.    Is  it  distant  thunder  ?  or  are  the 

23— (2131) 


354 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Makonde  making  war  on  us  ?  Nearer  and  nearer  it  comes,  and 
as  the  rolling,  rhythmic  sound  grows  louder,  we  begin  to 
perceive  that  it  is  approaching  from  several  different  directions 
at  once,  from  the  east,  the  west,  and  seemingly  from  the  north 
as  well.  We  soon  recognise  it  as  the  sound  of  drums  mingled 
with  singing.  Coming  out  from  under  the  roof  and  between 
the  tents,  we  see  the  people  already  pouring  in  through  the 
narrow  gates  in  an  apparently  endless  procession. 

Already  the  black  masses  have  met  in  the  midst  of  the 
spacious  boma,  but  fresh  throngs  are  streaming  in  from  both 
sides  ;  the  avenue  is  full, — the  black,  surging  sea  spreads  out 
beyond  it  into  the  lateral  enclosures,  the  drums  thunder, 
the  voices  screech,  hduta,  and  sing, — coloured  flags,  looking 
more  like  flowered  handkerchiefs  than  anything  else,  float 
from  long  poles  above  the  heads  of  the  crowd,  and  the  whole 
is  over-arched  by  the  sky  with  its  radiant  sunshine  and  innu- 
merable flocks  of  fleecy  cloudlets.  The  picture  is  certainly 
unique  of  its  kind,  and  well-fitted  in  its  wild  beauty  to  tempt 
the  brush  of  a  Breughel. 

I  cannot  paint,  but  what  is  the  good  of  having  some  thirty 
dark  slides,  well  provided  with  plates  ?  But,  then,  which  way 
is  one  to  turn  in  this  superabundance  of  subjects  ?  Here  is  an 
enormous  circle  of  men,  women,  and  children  ;  six  mighty 
drums  are  thundering  away  at  a  frantic  pace,  and  in  perfect 
time,  as  if  moved  by  some  invisible  force  ;  the  whole  vast 
assembly  move  arms  and  legs,  mouths  and  hands  as  one  person. 
Outside  this  huge  ring  is  another  circle  of  slender  young  girls 
just  budding  into  womanhood.  Their  ntungululu  vibrates 
through  the  air  in  shrillest  treble,  while  their  palms,  raised  high 
in  the-  air,  clap  in  time  with  the  evolutions  of  the  other  per- 
formers. "Oh!  I  see, — the  likwata^' — the  stock  of  human 
ideas  is  very  limited,  after  all.  Turning  away  in  disappoint- 
ment, we  see  in  the  background,  occupying  half  of  one  side  of 
the  boma,  two  lines  of  sharpshooters,  exercising  under  fire,  in  a 
truly  African  way.  The  native  scorns  to  take  cover,  he  is  a 
fatalist — if  he  is  hit,  well — Inshallah  !  This  is  brought  out  very 
strikingly  in  the  majimaji  dance,  the  mimic  representation  of 
the  late  insurrection.  The  black  attacking  line  charges  at  a  run, 
regardless  of  even  the  uncanny  "  rack-rack  "  of  the  "  Boom- 
boom  " — those  infernal  machines  out  of  which  the  Wadachi — 


'EMBARRAS  DE  RICHESSE  " 


355 


the  accursed  Germans — can  lire  a  thousand  bullets  a  minute. 
"In  vain — not  even  the  strong  daw  a  of  Hongo,  the  great  war- 
doctor,  can  protect  them  from  destruction.  The  enemy  is 
already  surging  up — how  can  the  majimaji  stand  against  him  ? 
Instinctively  the  whole  line  falls  back  before  the  sharp  bayonets 
of  the  askari,  as  far  as  the  dimensions  of  the  "  battle-field  " 
will  permit,  and  then,  howling  their  war-song,  they  charge  again. 
This  goes  on  for  hours. 

I  have  done  what  I  can  with  camera  and  cinematograph, 
and  now  my  stock  of 
plates  is  exhausted,  and 
so  am  I.  Meanwhile 
the  sun  has  climbed  to 
the  zenith  ; — five  hun- 
dred natives  are  stand- 
ing and  lounging  about, 
tired,  hungry  and 
thirsty,  under  the 
shadeless  rubber-trees, 
while  we,  for  our  part, 
are  called  by  the 
cooks  to  soup,  chicken 
and  omelette  with 
bananas. 

Abdallah  meant  well 
in'  summoning  this 
enormous  host  of 
natives,  but  from  the 
first  I  saw  that  it  was 
useless  to  have  so  many 
at  once.    After  a  time 

the  wali,  too,  understood  this,  and  sent  once  more 
for  the  village  headmen  from  far  and  near,  addressing  them 
somewhat  as  follows  :  —  "  To-morrow  morning  you, 
Nyamba" — or  as  the  case  might  be — "are  to  come  at 
eight  and  bring  the  people  of  your  village,  and  they  are 
to  bring  midimu  and  mitete  (dancing-masks  and  snuff-boxes) 
as  many  as  they  have,  and  all  the  other  things  that  you  use 
in  the  house  and  in  the  shamha  and  in  the  bush, — for  the  white 
man  likes  these  things  and  will  pay  you  for  them  in  pice  and 


MOTHER  AND  CHILD 


356 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


rupees.  And  the  day  after  to-morrow," — he  turns  to  the 
next  man,  "  you  must  come  with  your  people  and  bring  all 
the  things  I  have  just  told  you."  The  headman,  to  show  that 
he  has  understood,  salutes  with  his  hand  to  his  cap,  the  next 
one  follows,  and  so  on  in  order. 

The  new  plan  is  a  complete  success.  In  the  morning  I 
liave  time  to  photograph  the  people  individually,  to  take 
cinematograph  films  of  dances  and  games,  make  photographic 
records,  and  so  on.  The  middle  of  the  day  is  spent  in  studying 
the  endless  variety  of  keloid  patterns  in  vogue  among  the 
population  here,  and  the  afternoon  devoted  to  bargaining 
with  the  men  for  their  household  and  other  implements, 
ornaments,  weapons,  etc. 

And  the  women  !  Closely  huddled  together,  their  heads 
all,  as  if  in  obedience  to  one  impulse,  inclined  forward  and 
downward,  a  band  of  thirty  or  forty  Makonde  women  stand  in 
a  corner  of  the  homa  at  Mahuta.  Up  to  a  moment  ago  they 
w^ere  chattering  for  all  they  were  w^orth — then  the  strange 
white  man  in  the  yellow^  coat  came  up,  and  all  were  immediatel}^ 
quiet  as  mice,  only  the  twenty  or  thirty  babies  on  their  backs 
continuing  to  snore  or  yell,  according  to  circumstances,  as 
before.  I  have  long  since  found  the  right  way  to  deal  with 
women — at  the  first  small  joke  the  shyness  takes  its  departure, 
heads  are  raised  and  the  right  frame  of  mind  is  easily  pro- 
duced. It  is,  indeed,  highly  necessary  to  produce  this  result 
by  some  means  ;  there  is  so  much  to  examine  in  these  heads  and 
bodies.  Only  the  laughter  going  on  all  round  them  induces 
each  to  let  the  white  man  look  at  her  closely,  perhaps  even  touch 
lier.  Soon,  however,  the  rumour  spreads,  that  the  stranger  is 
a  man  of  wealth — of  inexhaustible  riches — he  has  whole  sacks 
and  cases  full  of  pice,  and  his  servant  has  orders  to  pay  over 
bright  coin  to  every  native  woman  who  does  what  he  asks 
her.  Friends  and  acquaintances  from  other  villages  have 
said  so,  and  surely  it  must  be  true.  My  experience  up  to  this 
point  had  shown  me  so  much  in  the  way  of  queer  manifesta- 
tions of  human  vanity,  that  I  thought  there  could  be  no  more 
surprises  in  store  for  me.  But  I  was  mistaken — fresh  wonders 
awaited  me  in  the  depths  of  the  Makonde  bush.  In  truth,  it 
seems  to  me  a  miracle  that  these  tender  lips  can  sustain  such 
huge  masses  of  heavy  wood,  a  hand-breadth  in  diameter 


358 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


and  three  fingers  thick.  The  wood  is  daily  whitened  with 
carefully- washed  kaolin.  The  process  by  which  the  hole  in 
the  lip  is  gradually  brought  to  this  enormous  size  has  already 
been  described.  The  initial  operation  is  performed  by  the 
girl's  maternal  uncle.  Her  mother  sees  that  the  hole  is  kept 
open  and  enlarged,  and  the  day  when  the  first  solid  plug  is 
inserted  is  kept  as  a  family  festival.    The  husband  cuts  a 

new  pelele  for  his  wife  when 
required,  each  a  size  larger  than 
the  last,  and  every  time  he 
has  occasion  to  go  to  the 
bush  he  brings  some  of  the 
fine  white  clay  she  uses  for 
bleaching  the  wood.  The 
young  woman  before  me  has 
a  good  husband,  as  her  name 
Ngukimachi  implies,  signify- 
ing that  she  has  no  need  to 
deceive  him  as  other  wives  do 
theirs.  But  he  knows,  too, 
how  w^ell  she  looks  in  her 
pelele — it  stands  straight  out, 
a  pleasure  to  see,  and  when 
she  laughs,  her  teeth  flash 
out  magnificently  behind  it. 
How  ugly  compared  with  her 
are  those  old  women  yonder  ! 

MAKONDE  GIRL  WITH   LIP  PIERCED 

FOR  /•/:/, /:/./:  AND  ULCERATED  They    have    lost    their  teeth, 

and  when  with  one  trembling 
hand  they  carry  the  lump  of  porridge,  taken  from  the  heap  before 
them,  to  their  mouths,  it  is  dreadful  to  see  the  food  vanish  into  a 
dark  cavern, when  the  other  hand  has  carefully  lifted  up  thepelele. 

The  next  two  w^omen  are  greatly  to  be  pitied.  Both  are 
young,  one  a  girl,  the  other  a  young  wife,  but  they  are  always 
sad,  and  well  the}^  may  be,  for  the  adornment  of  the  pelele 
is  denied  them.  No  matter  how  much  dawa  their  mothers 
and  uncles  have  put  on  their  lips,  the  wound  has  only  become 
worse.  In  the  elder,  the  front  of  the  lip  is  quite  eaten  away 
by  the  ulceration,  so  that,  with  her  large  white  teeth  showing 
through  in  the  middle,  her  mouth  is  hke  that  of  Sungura,  the 


DISASTROUS  RESULTS  OF  THE     PELELE "  359 


hare.  Their  looks  are  not  improved,  and  even  the  white  man, 
with  his  big  box  of  medicines,  can  do  nothing  to  cure  them. 
No  wonder  they  are  sad. 

Ahtengiri,  too,  yonder,  looks  serious.  Death  has  been  a 
frequent  visitor  to  her  house  of  late  ;  indeed,  she  has  lost  so 
many  of  her  relations  that  her  shamha  cannot  be  cultivated. 
She  used  to  be  very  lively,  and  chattered  away  so  quickly  that 
the  eye  could  scarcely  follow  the  motion  of  her  pelele,  which 
was  a  very  fine  one,  so  large 
that  her  lip  could  scarcely  support 
it.  Now  she  looks  greatly 
changed — is  she  ill  ?  or  has  the 
pelele  shrunk  ?  But  that  is 
impossible.  Let  us  ask  what  is 
the  matter.  She  does  not  answer 
— not  a  word  can  be  got  out 
of  her.  But  I  soon  observe 
what  is  wrong ;  her  lip  must 
have  given  way  and  she  has 
mended  it, — I  had  already  noticed 
the  strip  of  blue  stuff  pasted 
over  it — and  now  she  dare  not 
speak  or  laugh,  for  fear  of 
opening  the  wound  afresh. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the 
largest  peleles  to  be  found  in  the 
whole  southern  territory  are 
those  worn  by  the  women  of 
Mahuta  and  its  neighbourhood.  Blocks  of  seven  and  seven  and 
a  half  centimetres  in  diameter  and  three  to  five  centimetres 
in  thickness  are  not  uncommon.  With  the  black  or  white  discs, 
the  size  of  half-a-crown,  worn  in  the  lobes  of  the  ears  which  are 
stretched  in  a  similar  manner  to  the  lip,  this  gleaming  white 
ornament  makes  up  a  triad  of  decorations  which  as  a  whole 
is  surely  unique.  They  are  not  enough,  however,  for  the 
Makonde  woman, — her  face  and  the  greater  part  of  her  body 
are  covered  with  keloids,  which,  at  first  sight,  seem  to  present 
an  astonishing  variety  of  patterns.  On  examination,  however, 
their  component  elements  prove  to  be  surprisingly  few.  The 
present-day  native  gives  to  these  elements  such  names  as 


PSEUDO-SURGERY.  MAKONDE 
WOMAN  WITH  TORN  LIP 
ARTIFICIALLY  JOINED 


3a)        nativp:  life  in  east  Africa 


MAKONDE  KELOIDS 


thitopolc  C  a  pigeon-trap"),  chikoromhwe  ("a  fish-spear"),^ 
ceka,  etc.  The  first  of  these  patterns  is  a  curve,  which  might 
stand  for  the  bent  twig  of  a  pigeon-trap  ;  the  chikoromhwe  is 
more  like  a  fir-tree ;  the  teka  is  a  chitopole  with  a  central  axis. 
Whether  these  patterns  have  any  real  relation  to  the  bird- 
trap  or  the  fish-spear,  I  cannot  say,  for  the  natives  do  not 
know^ ;  but  one  thing  is  certain,  none  of  them  can  nowadays 
be  considered  as  a  genuine  tribal  mark.  The  novice  is 
inclined  to  look  on  them  as  such,  till  taught  better,  as  I  was 
in  a  most  compendious  way  by  old  Makachu.  This  venerable 
man  is  covered  all  over  with  the  same  sort  of  pattern  as  those 
displayed  by  the  women,  though  some  of  his  are  much  the 
worse  for  wear.  I  asked  him  why  he  was  thus  decorated, 
expecting  to  receive  a  long  dissertation  on  tribal  marks  and 
similar  institutions,  and  was  somewhat  taken  aback  when  he 
merely  said     Ninapenda^^ — ("Because  I  like  it  so"). 

This,"  in  fact,  seems  to  be  the  sole  reason  for  the  keloid 
decoration  being  applied  at  all,  as  well  as  for  the  choice  of 
pattern  in  each  individual  case.    At  Newala,  at  Nchichira, 

1  This  may  be  a  mistake  for  chikolongwe,  which  is  the  correct  form 
of  the  word  in  Yao — or  it  may  be  a  Makonde  word.  Chitopole,  in  Yao 
(see  Dr.  Hetherwick's  Handbook)  means  "  the  crescent-shaped  tribal 
mark  of  the  Walomwe  "  (a  division  of  the  Makua).  This  is  quite 
sufficiently  like  the  curved  spring  of  the  trap  in  the  illustration  on 
p.  98,  if  the  latter  were  turned  round  with  the  opening  downwards. 
Probably  the  Yaos  only  know  the  word  as  applied  to  the  keloid  pattern, 
having  learned  it  from  the  Makua,  in  whose  language  no  doubt  it 
originally  had  the  sense  attributed  to  it  by  Dr.  Weule. — [Tr.] 


FASHIONS  IN  KELOIDS 


361 


MATAMBW'E   AXD   MAKUA   WOMAN,    WITH  KELOIDS 


and  now,  at  Mahuta,  I  have  photographed,  or  at  least  inspected 
several  hundred  persons  with  the  result,  so  far  as  I  can  come 
to  any  conclusion  at  present,  that  it  is  impossible  to  discover 
from  any  of  the  patterns  the  nationality  of  the  wearer.  Each 
of  these  figures  has  been  chosen  on  the  same  principle  of 
*'  ninapenday 

It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  there  are  fashions  even  in  this 
form  of  ornament.  A  new  pattern  is  introduced  from  some- 
where,— it  finds  acceptance,  first  with  one  mother,  then  with 
another,  and  so  quickly  spreads  through  a  whole  generation, 
who,  of  course,  have  to  wear  it  through  life,  so  that,  in  fact,  it 
might  be  considered  a  sort  of  badge.  Perhaps  in  former  times 
the  tribes  in  this  part  of  the  country  placed  a  higher  value 
on  the  art  ;  but  it  is  no  longer  possible  to  prove  that  this  was 
so,  and,  in  fact,  the  custom  seems  to  be  passing  away  under 
modern  influences.  It  is  a  great  amusement,  not  only  to 
myself,  but  to  the  other  parties  concerned,  when  I  suddenly 
ask  a  man  or  youth  to  take  off  his  shirt  and  show  me  his  torso. 
Elderly  men  have  a  perfect  menagerie  of  antelopes,  snakes, 
frogs,  tortoises  and  other  creatures,  together  with  chikoromhwe, 
chitopole  and  teka  adorning  their  broad  chests,  while  the  rising 
generation  can  show  little  or  nothing.  The  latter  no  longer 
think  the  fashion  "  good  form  "  ;  they  have  their  eye  on  the 
coast  and  its  civihzation,  and  if  they  scarify  themselves  at 
all,  are  content  with  the  two  vertical  cuts  on  the  temples  in 
vogue  among  the  Swahili.    The  Yaos  and  the  Wangoni  of 


362 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Nchichira  have  already  pretty  generally  adopted  these  cuts, 
and  other  tribes  will  go  on  doing  so  in  an  increasing  degree, 
year  by  year. 

The  patterns  are  cut  b}^  a  professional — a  fundi,  who  makes 
numerous  small  incisions,  rubs  in  some  sort  of  powder,  and 

cuts  the  same  place 
again  and  again  till 
the  skin  heals  in  a 
raised  scar. 

It  is  essential  that 
the  director  of  an 
ethnogr  aphical 
museum  should  be  a 
good  man  of  business, 
even  in  Europe ;  but 
the  same  man,  if  he 
would  collect  success- 
fully in  Africa,  must 
be  more  acute, 
patient,  and  un- 
scrupulous in  bar- 
gaining than  any 
Armenian.  I  have 
already  had  occasion 
to  mention  the  un- 
e  xpected  diffi- 
culties met  with  in 
this  direction,  and 
need  not,  therefore,  express  my  feelings  now,  but  the 
Makonde  are  certainly  not  disposed  to  make  my  task  an 
easy  one.     The  black  crowd  is  moving  up  in  close  order. 

"  Well,  what  have  you  got  ?  "  asks  the  collector  affably 
enough.  By  way  of  answer  a  worn-out  wooden  spoon  is  put 
into  his  hand,  probably  fished  out  of  the  rubbish-heap,  as  being 
quite  good  enough  for  the  mzungu. 

"  Mshenzi ! — you  heathen  !  You  may  just  take  your 
treasure  back  again.  Let  me  see  what  else  you  have.  Where 
is  your  mask  ?  " 

"  I  have  none,  sir  ?  " 

"  Oh !    indeed — then  I  will  give  you  time  to  look  for  it. 


MAKUA   WOMAN    WITH    KELOIDS   ON  BACK 


WOOD  CARVING 


363 


MAKUA   WOMEN   WITH  KELOIDS 


Come  back  to-morrow,  and  mind  you  bring  your  mdiniu, 
and  don't  forget  your  snuff-boxes." 

This  scene  would  be  repeated  a  dozen  times  or  more  in  the 
course  of  an  afternoon  ;  in  some  cases  the  penitential  pilgrimage 
was  efficacious,  in  others  the  men  never  turned  up  again. 
Since  noticing  this  we  have  adopted  a  different  procedure, 
and  now  simply  render  the  village  headman  responsible  for  the 
production  of  the  articles.  This  makes  matters  quite  easy, 
and  every  evening,  Knudsen,  the  boys,  and  the  more  intelli- 
gent of  the  carriers  have  their  hands  full  making  the  inventory 
and  packing  the  day's  purchases. 

This  country  well  repays  the  collector,  though  East  Africa 
is  considered  a  rather  dull  ethnographical  area  compared  with 
the  Congo  basin.  North  Kamerun,  and  some  other  parts  of 
West  Africa.  It  is  true  that  one  must  not  be  very  exacting 
as  to  the  artistic  quahty  of  weapons  and  implements  produced 
by  these  tribes.  I  was  all  the  more  surprised  to  find  among 
the  specimens  of  wood-carving,  collected  in  my  district,  some 
veritable  little  gems.  The  dancing-masks  are  for  the  most 
part  mere  conventional  representations  of  human  faces  (those 
of  women  being  distinguished  by  the  pelele  and  ear-ornaments), 
or  of  animal  heads.  A  few  specimens  in  my  collection  are 
supposed  to  be  portraits  of  celebrities — some  heroes  of  the 
late  insurrection,  a  young  girl  famous  for  her  beauty,  and 
sundry  others,  but  on  the  whole,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  they 
are  very  roughly  executed.    Of  a  somewhat  higher  type  are 


364  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


the  statues  of  the  Ancestress  alkided  to  in  a  previous  chapter. 
They  leave,  it  is  true,  a  great  deal  to  be  desired  on  the  score 
of  anatomical  knowledge  and  harmony  of  proportions,  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  some  of  these  figures  are,  so  far  as  I  know, 
the  only  ones  from  Africa  in  which  the  feet  have  been  worked 
out  in  detail. 

But  it  is  above  all  the  mitete,  the  little  wooden  boxes  in  which 


MAKONDE   WOMEN   WITH   ELABORATE  KELOIDS 


the  people  keep  their  snuff,  their  medicines,  and  sometimes 
their  gunpowder — which  show  real  taste  and  a  style  and  execu- 
tion which  can  pass  muster  even  from  our  point  of  view.  The 
ornamentation  which  the  elder  generation  of  men  carry  about 
on  their  skins  in  the  form  of  keloids  is  applied  to  the  lids  of 
these  boxes.  Some  of  them  take  the  shape  of  heads  of  animals  : 
various  kinds  of  monkeys,  the  gnu,  the  bush-buck,  and  other 
antelopes,  but  oftenest  the  litotwe.  This  is  a  creature  of  all 
others  likely  to  catch  the  artist's  eye  and  tempt  him  to  reproduce 
it.  It  is  a  large  rat,  about  the  size  of  a  rabbit,  and  with  a  head 
which,  by  its  shape,  suggests  that  of  the  elephant,  or  at  least 
the  ant-eater,  the  snout  terminating  in  a  long  delicate  proboscis. 
At  Chingulungulu  Salim  Matola  caught  one  of  these  creatures 


THE  PIG-TAILED  MAVIA 


365 


AFRICAN  ART. 


CARVED  POWDER,   SXUFF  AND  CHARM-BOXES  FROM  THE 
MAKOXDE  HIGHLAXDS 


for  me,  but  it  escaped  before  I  had  time  to  sketch  more  than 
its  head. 

Human  heads,  too,  are  found  among  these  carvings,  and  are 
executed  with  the  same  skill  in  technique.  Most  of  them  have 
the  hair  dressed  in  a  long  pig-tail,  and  the  face  still  more 
cicatrized  than  the  ]\Iakonde  ;  these,  I  learn,  represent 
members  of  the  ]\Iavia  tribe.  I  can- 
not discover  whether  they  are  the 
work  of  local  artists,  or  of  the  Mavia 
themselves.  The  vendors  either 
give  no  answer  at  all  when  asked 
or  say,  as  all  natives  do  when 
ignorant  of  the  origin  of  an  article, 
"  mshcnzi'^  that  is  to  say,  "  some 
unknown  person  away  at  the  back 
of  the  bush."  However,  this  does 
not  affect  our  critical  judgment. 

In  the  practice  of  one  kind  of  art 
the  Makonde  seem  to  be  deficient. 
As  has  been  my  custom  elsewhere, 
I  occupy  all  my  spare  time  in  long 
walks,  in  order  to  observe  the  natives 
in  their  own  homes.  This,  however, 
is  not  so  easy  as  it  was  in  other 
places.  I  think  it  would  be  possible 
to  walk  over  the  whole  Makonde 
plateau  without  finding  a  single 
settlement,  so  closely  are  the  little 


MAKOXDE  MAX   WITH  KELOm 
PATTERNS 


366  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


YAO  WOMEN  WITH  KELOIDS 


hamlets  hidden  away  in  the  bush.  But  we  have  here 
an  ideal  guide,  Ningachi,  the  teacher,  whose  name  means, 
"  What  do  you  think  ?  "  Ningachi  is  a  very  decent, 
honest  man,  but  thinking,  in  spite  of  his  name,  does 
not  appear  to  be  his  strong  point.  Indeed,  he  has  but  httle 
time  for  thought,  being  my  courier  and  interpreter,  and  in  that 
capacity  kept  busy  from  morning  to  night.  He  has  even  made 
himself  useful  by  walking  enormous  distances  to  fetch  plump 
young  fowls  for  our  table. 

Under  Ningachi's  guidance  we  inspected  more  than  one 
Makonde  village.  They  are  picturesque — not  even  envy  can 
gainsay  that ;  but  not  one  of  the  wretched,  airy,  round  huts,  in 
which  the  generations  of  these  people  dream  away  their  dim 
lives  is  comfortable  even  according  to  the  modest  standard  of 
the  native.  They  are  not  even  plastered  with  clay,  in  the  usual 
fashion,  and  this  of  itself  makes  fresco  decoration  impossible. 
In  one  sense  this  fact  is  a  relief  to  me,  when  I  think  of  the 
miles  I  have  tramped  at  other  times,  on  hearing  of  beautifuUy 
painted  houses  in  such  or  such  a  village.  Painted  they  were, 
but  the  beauty  was  a  matter  of  taste.  We  do  not  admire  the 
scrawls  of  our  children,  and  just  such — clumsy,  rudimentary, 
utterly  devoid  of  perspective — are  these  beginnings  of  native 
art.  In  fact,  wherever  artistically  untrained  man  gives  way 
to  the  universal  instinct  of  scribbhng  over  all  accessible  surfaces, 
whether  blank  walls  or  smooth  rocks,  the  result  is  very 
much  the  same,  whether  produced  by  the  European  tramp  or 
street-boy,  or  by  my  Wangoni  and  Makua. 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OE  ART 


367 


The  mention  of  sketch-books  suggests  what  will  probably 
be  my  most  enduring  monument  in  this  country — if,  indeed, 
the  people  here  in  the  south,  or  even  my  own  men,  preserve 
any  recollection  whatever  of  the  Bwana  picha  (the  man  who 
takes  photographs),  once  the  expedition  is  over.  If  they  do 
so,  I  feel  it  will  not  be  my  unpronounceable  name  (my  Wanya- 
mwezi  once,  and  only  once,  succeeded  in  saying  "  Weure," 
and  on  that  occasion  laughed  so  consumedly,  that  I  gave 
up  all  further  attempts  to  accustom  them  to  this  uncouth 


THE  LITOTWE 


word),  nor  my  title  {Bwana  Pufesa  =  tlerv  Professor)  nor  the 
magical  character  of  my  machines,  which  will  keep  my  memory 
green,  but  the  many  books  of  thick  white  paper  in  which 
they  were  allowed  to  scribble  to  their  heart's  content. 

It  was  at  Lindi  that  this  artistic  activity  on  the  part  of  my 
native  friends  first  manifested  itself  in  all  its  intensity.  Bar- 
nabas especially  was  indefatigable  ;  every  day,  proud  and  yet 
anxious  as  to  my  judgment,  he  brought  me  fresh  masterpieces, 
only  one  of  which  is  reproduced  in  these  pages,  the  herd  of 
elephants  on  p.  190,  but  this  alone  is  quite  sufficient  to  charac- 
terize the  artist.  Can  we  deny  him  a  certain  power  of  per- 
ception ?  and  is  not  the  technique  quite  up-to-date  ?  It  is 
true  that  the  animals,  taken  separately,  have  with  their  short 
legs  a  somewhat  unfortunate  hkeness  to  the  domestic  pig, 
while  their  heads  suggest  the  chameleon  ;  the  upper  line  of  the 
trunk  is  seen  in  three  of  them  behind  the  left  tusk ;  and  the 
mtoto,  the  baby  elephant  on  the  right  of  the  picture,  has  no 
body,  leaving  off  just  behind  its  ears.  But,  nevertheless,  the 
man  not  only  knows  something  about  perspective,  but  knows 
how  to  apply  it,  and  that  by  no  means  badly. 

With  all  his  artistic  virtues,  Barnabas  has  one  faihng. 


368 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


He  is  no  mshcnzi,  no  raw  unlettered  savage  of  the  bush,  but  an 
educated,  even  a  learned  man.  By  birth  a  Makua,  from  a 
distant  part  of  the  interior,  he  has  passed  all  the  examinations 
in  the  Government  school  at  Lindi,  and  now  attends  to  the 
stamping  of  letters  and  the  weighing  of  parcels  in  the  little 


therefore  succeeded  better  in  depicting  the  adventure  of  the 
Matambwe  fisherman  (p.  347)  than  he  has  with  the  Arab  dan 
p.  25).  The  latter  is,  indeed,  drawn  accurately  enough  ;  it 
has  just  anchored  ;  the  sail  is  bent  to  the  yard ;  both 
flag  and  rudder  are  shown.  We  have  in  addition  three 
paddles,  floating  above  in  the  clouds.  These  are  intended, 
so  the  draughtsman  tells  me,  for  use  if  a  calm  comes  on.  But 
w^hat  is  that  amidships  ?  Has  the  vessel  sprung  a  leak,  or, 
indeed,  two  ?  No — they  are  the  two  hatchways.  Stamburi 
knows  that  such  openings  exist  on  the  ship  and  therefore  it 
is  his  duty  as  an  artist  to  put  them  in.  Having  no  knowledge 
of  perspective,  he  simply  turns  them  round  through  an  angle 
of  ninety  degrees,  so  as  to  bring  them  into  full  view  from  the 
side.    Genius  recognizes  no  limitations. 


post-office  of  that  town.  In  his 
spare  time  he  writes  for  the  Swahili 
paper  Kiongozi,  published  at  Tanga. 


Barnabas,  therefore,  cannot  be 
considered  as  a  representative  of 
primitive  art.  But  not  one  of  those 
w^ho  have  produced  my  other 
specimens,  whether  carriers,  soldiers 
or  savages  from  the  interior,  has 
ever  had  pencil  and  paper  in  hand 
before. 


"  bwaxa  pufesa  " 
(the  professor),    from  a 
drawing  by  one  of  my  escort 


Marine  subjects  appear  to  be 
in  high  favour.  My  askari 
Stamburi  (Stambuli,  i.e.,  Con- 
stantinople) is  a  smart  soldier 
while  on  duty,  off  duty  a  Don 
Juan ;  and  now  he  shows  himself 
possessed  of  an  unsuspected  gift 
for  marine  and  animal  painting. 
He  is  a  landsman,  born  far  in- 
land on  the  Upper  Rovuma  and  has 


24  — (-131) 


370  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


The  Matambwe  fisherman  in  the  other  picture  has  just 
anchored  his  boat  at  the  bend  of  the  river,  and  then  cast  his 
fine  with  the  uncouth  iron  hook.  A  few  minutes  after,  he  feels 
a  jerk, — then,  a  mighty  pull — a  broad,  round  object  swings 
through  the  air  and  lies  on  the  grass.  The  fisherman  is  just 
letting  the  line  run  deliberately  through  his  hand  to  draw  the 

booty  up  to  him,  when  some 
monster,  probably  of  unearthly 
origin,  dashes  at  his  fine,  large 
turtle.  It  is  only  a  common 
snake,  after  all,  though  an  un- 
usually large  one,  and  the  old 
man  is  not  going  to  give  up  his 
spoil  so  tamely,  but  is  holding 
on  to  the  line  for  all  he  is  worth. 

Most  of  these  drawings 
represent  incidents  actually 
witnessed  by  the  artist,  and  the 
figures,  whether  of  men  or 
animals,  are  intended  for  por- 
traits of  real  individuals. 
Some,  however,  are  purely 
genre  pictures,  such  as  the 
woman  pounding  at  the  mortar 
TWO  NATIVES.   DRAWN  BY  uudcr  thc  cavcs  of  her  hut 

^"^'•^  (p.    165),   and  the  mother 

with  the  baby  on  her  hip  (p.  345),  which  are  typical  figures 
from  everyday  hfe,  with  no  attempt  at  portraiture.  So, 
too,  the  two  natives  drawn  bv  Pesa  mbili  are  not  intended  for 
anyone  in  particular.  The  fact  is  that,  on  the  day  when  this 
was  executed,  at  Mahuta  (October  21st),  I  had  been  chiefly 
occupied  with  the  study  of  keloids,  and  a  number  of  men  had 
been  induced  to  remove  their  garments  and  submit  to  my 
inspection.  This  stimulated  the  headman,  who  was  more 
intelligent  than  most  of  his  companions,  to  attempt  the 
reproduction  of  two  such  figures. 

The  majority  of  the  other  drawings,  not  only  represent 
actual  incidents,  but  are  derived  from  the  artist's  personal 
experience.  The  drawing  of  the  s.s.  Rufiji  (p.  18),  done  from 
memory,  far  inland,  by  the  Swahili  Bakari,  has  a  huge  shark  in 


MY  PORTRAIT 


371 


the  foreground,  because  it  is  a  reminiscence  of  a  voyage  in  that 
vessel,  when  he  saw  that  particular  shark  at  a  certain  place 
which,  no  doubt,  he  could  point  out  with  unerring  accuracy. 
When  the  carrier,  Juma,  brought  me  his  "  [Monkeys  breaking 
into  a  plantation  "  (p.  168),  he  accompanied  it  with  this  explana- 
tion— "  But,  Bwana  Mkithwa,  that  is  my  shamha,  and  I  threw 
stones  at  the  monkeys,  and  drove  them  away  ;  there  were  seven 
of  them — great  big  ones." 

Of  portraits  in  the  strict  sense,  "  Bana  Pufesa "  (the 
Professor),  by  one  of  the  soldiers  (see  p.  368)  and  the  stilt- 
dancer  on  p.  237  hy  my  cook,  Omari,  both  belong  to  the 
early  days  of  the  expedition,  when  I  had  not  yet  lost  the  charm 
of  novelty,  and  the  Bondei  man  had  only  seen  one  masque- 
rader  on  stilts.  Poor  as  Omari's  work  is  in  other  respects, 
he  on  this  occasion  showed  considerable  courage  in  attempting 
to  represent  his  subject  in  full  face,  which  a  beginner  very 
seldom  ventures  to  do.  That  my  right  e3^e  should  be  seen 
wandering  through  space  like  a  star,  is  not  surprising  ;  that 
eye  exists,  and  therefore  it  must  appear  in  the  drawing. 

A  number  of  these  drawings  depict  whole  scenes  from 
native  life  in  the  district  I  have  traversed.  Here  we  have 
the  chain-gang  (p.  26),  to  the  number  of  seven  men,  marching 
slowly  through  the  streets  of  Lindi,  five  of  the  convict?  with 
large  tins  on  their  heads,  the  last  two  without  loads.  They  are 
going  to  fill  the  bath  in  some  European's  house,  an  unpleasant 
task,  because  of  the  high  ladder  which  has  to  be  chmbed, 
in  doing  which  the  heavy  chain  drags  uncomfortably  at  the 
back  of  the  man's  neck,  but  the  soldier  on  guard  behind  is  very 
strict,  and  there  is  no  shirking. 

It  is  true  that  the  large  whip  is  not  really  part  of  his 
insignia,  being  due  merely  to  a  stretch  of  the  artist's  imagina- 
tion, but  he  always  carries  a  loaded  rifle,  I  am  told,  since  a 
recent  mutiny,  in  which  the  guard  was  nmrdered.  A  likwata 
dance  (p.  45)  appeals  to  us  as  a  much  more  cheerful  subject, 
especially  when  the  Bwana  picha  is  engaged  in  conjuring  the 
scene  on  to  one  of  those  remarkable  glass  plates  which  are 
contained  in  his  three-legged  box,  and  on  which  all  the  black 
women  are  white  and  their  white  peleles  jet  black.  The  white 
man's  caravan,  too,  is  a  tempting  subject.  How  proudly  the 
two  boys,  Moritz  and  Kibwana,  are  carrying  their  master's 


372 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


THE  BUSH  COUNTRY  AND  ITS  FAUNA.      DRAWN  BY  SALIM  MATOLA 

guns,  while  he,  seated  on  his  nyumbu,  the  old  mule,  is  just 
turning  round  to  survey  the  procession  behind  him.  The 
Imperial  flag  flutters  merrily  in  the  morning  breeze  at  the  head 
of  the  long  line  of  carriers  laden  with  the  cases  and  boxes 
on  which  they  are  beating  time  to  the  march  with  the  sticks 
in  their  hands,  all  of  them  in  the  highest  spirits,  true  to  the 
character  of  Pesa  mbili's  friends  from  distant  Unyamwezi. 
(See  p.  104.)  Another  pleasant  subject  is  the  hunt  com- 
memorated by  Salim  Matola  (p.  77).  In  the  sportsman 
armed  with  a  bow^  the  artist  has  depicted  himself  striding 
along  after  his  dog,  in  hot  pursuit  of  a  buflalo.  Kwakaneyao, 
the  brown  dog,  is  a  keen  hunter  by  nature — his  name  means 
that  he  will  drive  aw^ay  every  other  dog  who  may  attempt  to 
dispute  the  quarry  with  him.  In  spite  of  this,  however,  Salim 
Matola,  by  way  of  taking  an  extra  precaution,  before  starting, 
rubbed  his  companion's  teeth  with  certain  roots,  and  gave 
him  a  piece  of  the  last-killed  bush-buck  to  eat.  Thereupon 
Kwakaneyao  rushed  off  into  the  port  like  an  arrow,  so  that 
his  master  could  scarcely  keep  up  with  him. 

The  same  Salim  Matola  shows  us  this  port  with  its  charac- 
teristic animals  in  another  drawing  which,  sketchy  as  it  is, 
reproduces  the  character  of  the  country  with  the  utmost 
accuracy  : — the  scattered,  straggling  trees,  and  the  harsh, 
tall  African  grass  between  them, — the  dark  green  tree- 
snake  in  the  tamarisk  on  the  left,  a  hornbill  on  the  right, 
and  in  the  background  a  small  antelope.  In  short,  this  is 
in  its  way  a  little  masterpiece. 

The  Makua  Isaki  illustrates  the  superstitions  of  his  tribe 
in  the  little  picture  reproduced  on  p.  212.    The  comical  httle 


SABATELE'S  MAP 


373 


bird  there  depicted  is  the  ill-omened  owl  (likwikwi),  which, 
crying  night  after  night,  brought  death  to  Marquardt's  little 
daughter.    No  native  likes  to  see  or  hear  it. 

The  little  sketch  on  p.  305  is  a  scene  from  Makonde  life. 
Mtudikaye,  "  the  hospitable,"  and  her  daughter  Nantupuli, 
who  has  not  yet  found  a  husband,  though  not  for  want  of  seeking, 
are  taking  their  turn  to  fetch  water,  as  all  the  men  are  busy 
breaking  up  ground  in  the  bush,  and,  burdened  with  the 
carrying-poles  and  the  great  gourds,  have  just  accomplished 
the  long,  rough  walk  to  the  stream  at  the  foot  of  the  plateau. 
The  two  banana-trees  with  their  heavy  bunches  of  fruit, 
mark  the  place  for  drawing  water  :  from  the  stepping  stones 
in  their  shadow  one  can  get  it  much  clearer  than  by  standing 
on  the  trampled,  muddy  bank. 

Now  we  come  to  science.  My  men  must  have  a  marked 
topographical  instinct — otherwise  it  is  difficult  to  explain  the 
large  number  of  maps  with  which  they  have  overwhelmed  me. 
I  have  reproduced  only  one  of  these  (p.  9)  the  first,  which 
quite  took  me  by  surprise.  The  author  is  Sabatele,  an  unso- 
phisticated child  of  nature  from  the  far  south-west  of  our 
colony — the  southern  end  of  Lake  Tanganyika.  He  produced 
it  at  Lindi,  quite  in  the  early  days  of  our  expedition.  It 
gave  rise  to  a  great  discussion,  carried  on  with  the  aid  of 
Pesa  mbili,  the  headman  and  other  representatives  of  intelli- 
gence. In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  we  succeeded  in  identifying 
all  the  mysterious  signs,  and  I  discovered  to  my  astonishment 
that  the  orientation  of  this  first  cartographic  attempt  was 
quite  correct,  and  the  topography  only  wrong  as  regards  some 
of  the  distances.  Pointing  to  the  curious  object  marked  in 
my  reproduction,  I  received  the  unhesitating  answer  "  Mawo- 
panda  " — Kinyamwezi  for  Dar  es  Salam.  No.  2  is  "  Lufu  " — 
the  Ruvu  of  our  maps,  the  large  river  always  crossed  by 
Wanyamwezi  carriers  on  the  main  caravan-road.  No.  3 
is  explained  as  "  Mulokolo  " — that  is  to  say,  Morogoro,  the 
present  terminus  of  the  great  central  railway,  which  will  put 
an  end  once  for  all  to  the  old  caravan  traffic  of  the  Wanya- 
mwezi and  Wasukuma.  The  Wanyamwezi  have  a  difficulty 
in  pronouncing  "r"  and  usually  substitute  "/"  for  it.  The 
contrast  between  these  sturdy  fellows  and  the  softness  of 
their  speech  is  a  curious  one. 


374 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


No.  4  is  "  Mgata,"  the  Makata  plain  between  the  Uluguru 
and  the  Rubeho  mountains,  the  whole  of  which  is  a  swamp  in 
the  rainy  season.  "  Kirosa  "  is  the  sound  which  greets  me 
when  I  point  with  my  pencil  to  No.  5.  "Of  course,  where 
there  is  no  '  r  '  they  pronounce  it,"  I  grumble  to  myself, 
delighted  all  the  time  with  the  splendid  trill  produced  ;  "  there- 
fore we  must  set  it  down  as  Kilosa^  No.  6  is  the  "  Balabala  " 
— the  caravan-road  itself.  No.  7  is  "  Mpapwa,"  the  old 
caravan  centre,  once  the  last  halt  on  the  inland  march  before 
the  dreaded  Marenga  Mkali,  the  great  alkali  desert,  and  hostile 
Ugogo.  Conversely,  on  the  march  down  to  the  coast,  it  meant 
deliverance  from  thirst  and  ill-treatment.  Hesitatingly  I 
place  my  pencil  on  No.  8,  which  according  to  the  drawing,  must 
mean  a  stream  of  some  sort,  though  I  know  of  none  in  that 
neighbourhood.  In  fact,  the  name  Mutiwe,  which  Sabatele 
now  mentions,  is  quite  unknown  to  me  ;  it  is  only  on  consulting 
the  special  map  that  I  discover  it,  flowing  past  Kilimatinde — 
N.B.,  when  it  contains  water,  which,  needless  to  remark,  is 
not  always  the  case.  It  must  have  impressed  itself  on 
Sabatele's  memory  as  a  water-course — otherwise,  why  should 
so  matter-of-fact  a  fellow  have  remembered  the  spot  ? 

Now,  however,  we  have  reached  the  heart  of  German  East 
Africa  and  find  ourselves  in  regions  well  known  to  my  followers. 
No.  9  is  the  lofty  altitude  of  Kilimatinde,  and  No.  10  is  called 
by  Sabatele  Kasanga.  I  take  the  name  for  that  of  Katanga, 
the  copper  district  far  to  the  south  in  the  Congo  basin,  and 
shake  my  head  incredulously, — it  is  impossible  that  the  young 
man  can  have  travelled  so  far.  On  cross-examination  it 
comes  out  that  he  is  from  the  Mambwe  country  at  the  south 
end  of  Tanganyika,  and  his  Kasanga  is  identical  with  our 
station  of  Bismarckburg.  No.  11  is  my  original  goal  Kondoa- 
Irangi,  and  No.  12  is  the  post  of  Kalama,  in  Iramba.  At 
Tobola,  as  my  map-maker  calls  Tabora,  he  even  enters  into 
detail.  No.  I3a  is  the  present  Tabora  with  the  new  boma, — 
No.  13^  is  "  Tobola  ya  zamani''  Old  Tabora,  with  the  former 
boma.  Nos.  14  and  15  are  respectively  Ujiji  on  Lake  Tan- 
ganyika and  Mwanza,  on  Lake  Victoria  ;  these  two  trading 
centres  are  Sabatele's  "  farthest  west  "  and  "  farthest  north," 
as  he  explains  to  me  with  proud  satisfaction. 

Even  without  counting  his  comrades'  performances  in  the 


THE  MASASI  MOUNTAINS  375 


same  kind,  Sabatele's  route-map  is  not  an  isolated  pheno- 
menon ;  on  the  contrary,  whole  volumes  have  already  been 
written  on  the  subject  of  cartography  among  the  primitive 
races.  Yet  this  unpretending 
little  sketch  is  by  no  means 
without  psychological  interest. 
We  are  accustomed  to  look 
at  every  map  from  the  south, 
considering  the  top  of  it  as  the 
north.  All  my  native  maps  are 
oriented  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion— ^they  look  at  the  region 
represented  as  if  from  the  north 
and  place  the  south  at  the  top 
of  the  map. 

This  is  likewise  the  case  in 
the  original  of  the  one  here 
reproduced,  which  I  have  turned 
round  through  180  degrees, 
merely  in  order  to  bring  it 
into  agreement  with  our  maps. 
The  distances  between  the  vari- 
ous places  are  wrong,  as  already 
remarked,  but  otherwise  it  is 
wonderfully  correct,  considered 
as-  the  work  of  an  entirely 
untrained  man. 

The  last  of  the  native  draw- 
ings reproduced  is  a  combination 
of  landscape-painting  and  topo- 
graphical diagram — in  it  Salim 
Matola  has  represented  the 
mountains  of  his  home  at  Masasi 
(p.  65).  None  of  my  attempts 
to  photograph  this  range 
were  successful.  When,  in  my  excursions,  I  reached  a  spot 
far  enough  off  to  see  it  as  a  whole,  it  was  even  betting  that  the 
air  would  be  too  hazy  ;  and  when  near  enough  to  see  any  of 
the  hills  well,  I  was  too  near  to  get  a  good  view  of  all. 

Salim  has  therefore  supplied  this  want,  and  by  no  means 


MAKONDE  WOMAN  IN  HOLIDAY 
ATTIRE 


376 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


unskilfully.  It  is  true  that  the  native  hunter  on  the  top  of 
Chironji,  and  his  gun,  are  both  out  of  all  proportion  to  the 
height  of  the  mountain  itself,  and  the  vegetation  also  errs  in 
relative  size  (though  not  in  character),  but  everything  else 
is  right  : — the  series  of  gigantic  peaks — Mkwera,  Masasi, 
Mtandi,  Chironji,  is  given  in  the  proper  order,  and,  on  the  left, 
the  smaller  outlying  knobs  of  Mkomahindo,  Kitututu  and 
Nambele.  The  steepness  of  the  individual  mountains  is  well 
rendered,  as  also  the  rounded  dome-shape  of  their  tops  ; — 
perhaps  it  would  not  be  too  much  to  sav  that  Salim  has  tried, 
by  parallel  and  concentric  strokes,  to  indicate  the  structure 
of  the  gneiss. 

The  early  rains  appear  to  follow  me  wherever  I  go.  xAt 
Newala  they  began  at  the  end  of  September  ;  at  Nchichira, 
a  few  weeks  later,  and  here  at  Mahuta  they  set  in  with  consider- 
able violence  at  the  end  of  October.  Fortunately  I  was  able, 
before  they  began,  to  enjoy  the  natives  even  to  excess.  The 
Makonde  have  for  the  last  few  weeks,  been  celebrating  a 
veritable  series  of  popular  festivals  on  a  small  scale,  on  the 
fine  large  arena  within  the  homa  enclosure.  As  these  festivities 
were  quite  spontaneous,  I  was  able  to  feel  assured  of  their 
genuinely  native  character.  More  than  once  I  saw  the  stilt- 
dancers,  with  their  gigantic  strides,  rigid,  masked  faces  and 
waving  draperies,  stalking  through  the  crowd.  One  afternoon, 
a  dancer,  cleverly  disguised  as  a  monkey,  earned  universal 
applause  by  his  excellent  imitation  of  the  animal's  movements 
and  gestures.  The  African  is  fond  of  laughing— perhaps 
because  he  knows  that  this  reflex  movement  displays  his 
magnificent  teeth  very  becomingly,  but  on  this  occasion  the 
gambols  and  somersaults  of  the  mimic  furnished  a  suflicient 
excuse  for  the  echoing  volleys  of  mirth. 

Another  man,  a  muscular  fellow  of  middle  height,  seemed  to 
be  a  popular  all-round  comedian.  He  first  showed  himself 
a  skilled  contortionist — in  fact,  he  might  have  appeared 
without  hesitation  in  anv  European  circus.  He  next  gave  an 
equally  masterly  performance  on  the  swinging  trapeze,  four 
strong  men  holding  up  a  long  pole  which  served  as  the  axis  of 
his  evolutions.  Finally,  he  distinguished  himself  as  a  clown. 
In  accordance  with  the  mental  constitution  of  the  race,  how- 
ever, the  comic  effect  was  produced,  not  so  much  by  facial 


378  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 

expression  as  by  his  attitudes  and  the  ^  movements^of 
his  legs,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  cine-  matograph 


A  DIABOLO  PLAYER  OX  THE   MAKOXDE  PLATEAU 


records  I  took  of  his  performance.  To  complete  the  proof  of  his 
versatility,  he  appeared  in  the  second  part  of  the  programme  as 
the  hero  of  a  pantomime.  This  was  a  "  problem  play  "  of  sorts, 
— the  husband  a  blockhead,  the  wife  (played  as  in  the  classic 
drama  of  antiquity,  by  a  man)  an  artful  coquette, — the  lover, 
a  Don  Juan,  approved  in  all  the  arts  of  seduction.  The  founda- 
tion of  the  drama,  as  will  be  seen,  is  so  far  cosmopolitan,  but 


DIABOLO 


379 


the  naturalness  and  simphcity  with  which  all  the 
incidents  of  actual  hfe  took  place  on  the  stage  was 
genuinely  primitive  and  African,  and  equally  African 
was  the  imperturbable  gravity  of  the  public,  who 
obviously  followed  the  progress  of  the  action  with 
the  deepest  interest.  There  was  no  silly  laughter 
at  the  wrong  time  ;  no  one  made 
audible  comments. 

If  anyone  is  still  inclined  to 
doubt  that  the  original  and 
uncontaminated  culture  of  our 
primitive  peoples  is  rapidly 
perishing,  I  would  request  him 
to  consider  the  following. 

Again  it  is  a  lively  afternoon  : 
dancing,  singing,  and  games  going 
on  everywhere.  I  am  fully 
occupied,  as  usual,  but  all  at 
once,  my  attention  is  directed  to  a 
figure  apparently  pursuing  an  in- 
dividual activity  by  itself.  The 
arms  mo\'e  rhythmically  up  and 
down,  holding  two  sticks  about 
half-a-yard  in  length,  united  by 
a  string  of  twisted  bark. 
Suddenly  the  arms  are  abruptly 
thrown  apart,  the  right  being 
stretched  upward,  the  left  spread 
sideways,  and  like  a  bomb  a  still 
unrecognisable  object  descends 
out  of  the  air,  is  cleverly  caught 
on  the  string,  and  runs  like  a 
frightened  weasel  backwards  and 
forwards  between  the  ends  of 
the  sticks.  Immediately  after- 
wards it  has  again  vanished  in 
the  air,  but  returns  repentant  to 
its  owner,  and  the  process  con- 
tinues. I  feel  that  I  have  some- 
where seen  this  before,  and  rack 


380 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


my  brain  for  some  time — at  last  I  have  it.  This  is 
no  other  than  the  game  of  diabolo,  which  as  we  read 
in  the  German  papers,  is  pursued  with  such  enthusiasm 
in  England  and  other  countries  where  games  are  the 
rage.  When  I  left  home,  it  was  still  unknown  to  my 
compatriots,  who,  in  this  as  in  other  matters,  limp  slowly 
but  steadily  after  the  rest  of  the  world  ;  but  I  venture  to  prog- 
nosticate that  it  will  begin  to  flourish  among  us  when  other 
nations  have  dropped  it  as  an  obsolete  fashion.  Now,  too, 
I  can  recall  a  picture  of  the  game  seen  in  a  shop-window  at 
Leipzig,  and  if  I  compare  my  recollection  of  this  with  the 
action  of  the  man  before  me,  I  must  confess  that  this  solution 
of  the  technical  problem  could  not  be  bettered.  The  narrow 
wedge-shaped  notch  cut  all  round  the  convex  surface  of  the 
wooden  cylinder  gives  free  play  to  the  string  without 
appreciably  diminishing  the  weight  of  the  whole.  ^ 

Had  I  not  been  aware  that  the  rain  is  the  only  cause  for  the 
daily  falling  off  in  the  number  of  my  visitors,  I  should  here, 
too,  have  reason  to  consider  myself  a  mighty  magician  ;  but,  as 
it  is,  the  people  tell  me  frankly  enough  that  it  is  now  time  to 
attend  to  their  fields.  To  be  candid,  the  leisure  thus  obtained 
is  not  at  all  unwelcome.  I  am,  indeed,  satisfied,  more  than 
satisfied,  and  have  several  times  caught  myself  passing  over 
with  indifference  the  most  interesting  phenomena  in  the  life 
of  the  people.    There  are  limits  to  the  receptive  power  of  the 

1  We  cannot  help  thinking  that  Dr.  Weule  must  be  mistaken  in 
supposing  this  game  to  be  borrowed  from  a  European  source.  The 
late  Commander  Cameron,  at  Kasongo  in  1874,  saw  a  slave  of  the  Arab, 
Juma  Merikani,  "  exhibiting  tricks  .  .  .  with  a  piece  of  heavy,  hard 
wood  shaped  like  an  hour-glass,  and  two  sticks  each  a  foot  in  length. 
Taking  a  stick  in  each  hand,  he  could  make  the  wood  rotate  rapidly 
and  run  backwards  and  forwards  .  .  .  between  the  sticks,  on  a  piece 
of  string  attached  to  their  ends  ;  then,  by  a  peculiar  jerk,  he  would  send 
the  wood  flying  up  into  the  air,  higher  than  a  cricket-ball  could  be 
throwm,  and  catching  it  on  the  string,  would  again  set  it  rolling  " 
{Across  Africa,  II,  91).  At  this  time,  diabolo,  of  course,  was  quite 
unknown  in  Europe,  though  it  had  been  a  fashionable  game  in  the 
early  part  of  last  century.  A  writer  in  the  BuUetin  de  la  Societe  Beige  des 
Etudes  Coloniales  (December,  1908),  in  a  notice  of  Dr.  Weule's  book, 
after  quoting  the  above  passage  from  Cameron,  refers  to  a  description 
of  the  game  (under  the  name  of  Le  Diahle),  from  a  work  entitled  Les 
Amusements  de  la  Campagne  (Paris,  1826).  It  was  believed  to  have 
originated  in  China. — [Tr.] 


NINGACHPS  SCHOOL 


381 


human  mind,  and  when  overtaxed,  as  mine  has  recently  been, 
it  altogether  refuses  to  take  in  further  impressions. 

Only  Ningachi  and  his  school  never  fail  to  excite  my  interest. 
Our  haraza  is  the  second  house  on  the  south  side  of  the 
boma,  beginning  from  the  east.  The  first  is  the  alleged  abode 
of  some  Baharia  ;  but  in  reality  it  seems  to  be  a  large  harem, 
for  women's  voices  keep  up  an  incessant  giggling  and  chat- 
tering there.  In  the  third  house  lives  His  Excellency  the 
Secretary  of  State  to  the  Viceroy,  in  other  words  the  officially 
appointed  clerk  to  the  Wah.  He  is  a  Swahili  from  Dar  es 
Salam,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  Moritz's,  but  his  relations 
with  the  pillar  of  rriy  migratory  household  have  not  prevented 
my  giving  the  rascal  a  good  dressing  down.  For  some  time 
after  my  arrival,  I  was  unable  to  get  a  proper  night's  rest, 
on  account  of  the  perpetual  crying  of  a  baby,  evidently  in  pain, 
which  was  audible  from  somewhere  close  at  hand.  Before 
long,  I  had  traced  it  to  its  source  and  cited  father,  mother  and 
son  to  appear  in  my  consulting-room.  Both  parents,  on 
examination,  proved  to  be  thoroughly  healthy  and  as  fat  as 
butter;  the  child,  about  a  year  old,  was  likewise  round  as  a 
ball,  but  covered  from  head  to  foot  with  sores  in  consequence 
of  the  most  disgraceful  neglect.  And  this  man  can  read  and 
write,  and  is,  therefore,  in  the  eyes  of  statisticians  a  fully 
accredited  representative  of  civilization,  and  looks  down  with 
abysmal  contempt  on  those  who  do  not,  like  himself,  lounge 
about  in  white  shirt  and  embroidered  cap. 

But  now  as  to  the  fourth  house.  On  the  first  mornmg,  I 
saw,  without  understanding  the  meaning  of  the  sight,  some 
six  or  eight  half-grown  boys  assembled  in  front  of  it  about 
half-past  six.  My  first  thought  was  that  they  were  going  to 
play,  and,  as  I  watched  them,  they  arranged  themselves  in 
Indian  file  in  the  order  of  their  height.  They  were  then  joined 
by  a  man  in  a  white  shirt,  and,  at  a  sign  from  him,  vanished, 
one  after  another,  in  the  same  order,  under  the  overhanging 
eaves.  \  sound  reached  my  ear  soon  after,  which,  it  is  true, 
was  in  itself  nothing  extraordinary  ;  a  deep  voice  reciting 
words  immediately  taken  up  by  a  chorus  of  high  trebles, — 
but  something  in  the  quality  of  the  utterance  induced  me 
to  approach  within  earshot  without  knowing  what  attracted 
me.    Standing  at  a  distance  of  a  few  feet  from  the  house, 


382 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


I  became  aware  that  I  •  was  actually  listening  to  German 
words.  An  elementary  lesson  in  arithmetic  was  taking  place. 
"  Und  das  ist  eins — and  that  is  one,"  began  Ningachi,  and 
the  class  echoed  his  words.    Then  followed,  in  like  manner, 

"  and  that  is  two," 
"  and  that  is  three," 
and  so  on,  up  to  thirty- 
one,  which  appeared 
to  be  the  limit  of  the 
teacher's  arithmetical 
knowledge,  as  far  as 
numeration  is  con- 
cerned, for  he  then 
proceeded  to  exercises 
in  addition  and  sub- 
traction. Havi-ng 
listened  to  these  lessons 
on  many  successive 
mornings,  I  have  re- 
luctantly been  forced 
to  the  conclusion  that 
they  are  a  mere 
mechanical  driU.  The 
pupils  are  at  once 
embarrassed  if  asked  to 
point  out  at  random 
any  figure  in  the  series 
so  neatly  written  out 
on  the  blackboard  by 
their  teacher,  and  in 
the  sums  they  appear  to  be  hopelessly  at  sea.  "  Two 
minus  eight  is  six,"  is  a  comparatively  venial  error.  Ningachi 
himself  does  not  feel  very  happy  when  going  through  this 
routine,  but  says  that  he  w^as  taught  so  in  the  Government 
School  at  Mikindani,  and  is  bound  to  teach  in  the  same  way 
himself.  It  was  no  great  consolation  to  the  honest  fellow 
to  hear  that  there  are  cramming  establishments  elsewhere. 

I  finished  my  notes  on  the  Makonde  language  in  an 
astonishingly  short  space  of  time.  Like  a  god  from  the 
machine,  my  pearl  of  assistants,  Sefu,  suddenly  appeared 


FATICl'E  DKK.- 


THE  WAMWERA 


383 


from  Newala,  and  in  conjunction  with  him  and  Ningachi  I 
ha.ve  been  able  to  convince  myself,  in  the  course  of  seven 
very  strenuous  days,  that  Makonde  is  most  closely  connected 
with  the  neighbouring  idioms,  and  that  it  is  probably  only  the 
absence  of  the  "  s  "  sound  which  has  led  other  writers  to 
describe  it  as  very  divergent  from  Swahili  and  Yao.  The  want 
of  this  sound,  however,  I  feel  certain,  is  intimately  connected 
with  the  wearing  of  the  pelele  in  the  upper  lip.  I  suppose 
all  of  us  have,  at  one  time  or  another,  suffered  from  a  badly 
swelled  upper  lip.  Is  it  possible,  under  such  circumstances,  to 
articulate  any  sibilant  whatever  ?  This  theory,  indeed, 
supposes  that  the  men  originally  wore  the  same  lip-ornaments 
as  the  women.  But  why  should  this  not  have  been  the  case  ? 
The  Ma  via  men  wear  them  even  now,  and  the  Ma  via  are  said 
to  be  very  closel}^  related  to  the  Makonde. 

Only  with  the  Wamwera  I  have  had  no  luck.  I  have  never 
lost  sight  of  my  intention  to  return  and  spend  some  time  in  the 
country  of  that  tribe ;  but  the  Wali,  Sefu,  and  other  well- 
informed  men  tell  me  it  is  impossible.  They  say  that  the 
Wamwera,  having  been  in  rebellion  against  the  Government, 
were  unable  to  plant  their  fields  last  season,  as  they  were  in 
hiding  in  the  bush. 

"  The  Wamwera,"  they  say,  "  have  been  at  war  with  the 
Germans,  and  so  they  were  living  in  the  bush,  for  the  whole 
of  the  planting  season,  and  could  not  sow  their  crops.  They 
have  long  ago  eaten  up  the  little  store  they  had  hidden,  and 
now  they  have  nothing  more ;  they  are  all  suffering  from 
hunger,  and  many  of  them  have  died."  My  next  suggestion 
was  that  we  should  provision  ourselves  here  and  make  for  the 
Rondo  plateau,  but  my  advisers  were  very  much  against  tliis 
plan.  They  said  the  people  in  their  despair  would  fall  upon 
us  and  fight  with  us  for  our  supplies  of  corn.  Well,  I  thought, 
if  the  mountain  will  not  come  to  Mahomet,  Mahomet  must 
go  to  the  mountain,  and  a  few  days  later,  there  appeared, 
summoned  by  special  messengers,  the  two  Wamwera  alleged 
to  be  the  most  learned  men  in  the  tribe.  They  were  two 
elderly  men,  emaciated  to  skeletons,  without  a  trace  of  calves, 
or  any  other  muscular  development,  while  their  sunken  cheeks 
and  hollow  eyes  bore  eloquent  testimony  to  the  terrible  suffer- 
ings they  had  undergone.    We  waited  patiently  while  they 


384  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


were  getting  fed — they  devoured  such  quantities  of  porridge 
that  their  stomachs  protruded  hke  large  skittle-balls  from  their 
bodies.    At  last  they  were  in  a  fit  condition  to  be  questioned. 

In  spite  of  their  reputation  for  wisdom,  there  was  not  much 
to  be  got  out  of  Machigo  and  Machunya  ;  a  few  dozen  clan 
names,  a  longer  list  of  simple  words— that  was  all.  Every 
attempt  to  ascertain  by  their  help  the  forms  of  verbs  or  any 
of  the  mysteries  of  syntax  was  an  utter  failure.  Probably  it 
was  not  intelligence  so  much  as  intellectual  training  that 
was  wanting  ;  anyone  who  should  attempt  to  ascertain 
the  structure  of  the  German  language  with  the  assistance 
of  a  bullock-driver,  would  doubtless  fare  no  better  than 
I  did. 

I  dismissed  the  old  men  after  a  short  time  without  resent- 
ment— in  fact,  I  loaded  them  with  presents,  and,  cheered  by 
the  consciousness  of  their  unexpected  gains,  they  stepped  out 
manfully  on  their  road  northward. 

With  the  departure  of  the  two  gaunt  professors  of  Kimwera, 
I  have  really  got  rid  of  mv  last  scientific  care,  and  that  is  just 
as  well,  for,  as  I  have  already  remarked,  my  appetite  is  more 
than  satiated.  I  have  accomplished  a  respectable  amount  of 
work  in  the  past  few  months.  I  have  taken  more  than  1,200 
photographs  ;  but  the  non-photographer,  who  imagines  the 
art  to  be  a  mere  amusement,  will  scarcely  place  this  to  my 
credit  ;  and  only  the  expert  can  appreciate  the  amount  of 
exertion  and  excitement  represented  by  the  above  number  of 
negatives  in  a  country  like  this.  I  have  already  alluded  to 
some  difficulties  ;  these  have  only  increased  with  time,  for 
the  sun  is  every  day  higher  in  the  heavens,  and  the  intensity 
of  the  light  between  eight  a.m.  and  five  p.m.  is  quite  incredible. 
I  have  always  kept  an  exact  record,  in  my  register  of  negatives, 
of  all  details  of  weather  and  light,  but  nevertheless  I  have  not 
escaped  failure — so  difficult  is  it  to  judge  the  intensity  of  hght 
in  the  tropics.  One  night,  one  may  have  the  satisfaction  of 
finding,  when  developing  the  day's  work,  that  by  good  luck 
all  the  exposures  have  been  right.  Next  day  the  weather 
is  precisely  the  same — you  take  the  same  stop,  and  expose 
for  the  same  length  of  time — and  yet,  when  evening  comes, 
you  find  that  every  plate  is  over  or  under  exposed.  This 
is  not  exhilarating.    Then  there  is  the  perpetual  worry  about 


CINEMATOGRAPH  RECORDS  385 


the  background.  Unfortunately,  I  have  brought  no 
isochromatic  plates  ;  but  the  want  of  them  is  partly  supplied  by 
a  huge  tarpaulin  which  I  originally  took  with  me  to  cover 
my  baggage  at  night,  but  which  never  served  this  purpose. 
Even  before  leaving  ^lasasi,  we  fastened  it  between  two 
bamboo  poles,  and  covered  one  side  of  it  with  one  or  two 
lengths  of  sanda.  Since  then  I  have  always  used  it  in  photo- 
graphing when  the  sun  is  high,  to  screen  off  a  too-strongly 
illuminated  background.  And  if  nothing  else  will  serve,  the 
strongest  of  my  men  hold  the  screen  over  the  object,  when  I 
find  myself  obliged  to  take  an  important  photograph  with  the 
sun  directly  overhead. 

Next  come  the  phonograph  cylmders.  The  extremeh'  high 
temperature  of  the  low^lands  has  deprived  me  of  the  oppor- 
tunity of  making  some  valuable  records — a  loss  which  must 
be  borne  with,  what  philosophy  I  can  summon  to  my  aid.  It 
is  the  easier  to  do  so,  that,  in  spite  of  the  draw^backs  referred 
to,  I  have  only  five  left  out  of  my  five-dozen  cylinders,  and 
for  these,  too,  I  can  find  an  excellent  use  ;  to-morrow  they 
shall  be  covered  with  the  finest  Nyamwezi  melodies.  As 
to  the  cinematograph,  I  must  remember  that  I  am  a  pioneer, 
and  as  such  must  not  only  incur  all  the  inconvenience  involved 
in  the  imperfections  of  an  industr}^  as  yet  in  its  infancy,  but 
take  the  risk  of  all  the  dangers  which  threaten  gelatine  films 
in  the  tropics.  It  certainly  does  not  dispose  one  to  cheerful- 
ness, when  Ernemann  writes  from  Dresden  that  my  last 
consignment  of  films  has  again  proved  a  failure  ;  but  I  have 
given  over  worrying  over  things  of  this  sort,  ever  since  my 
vexation  at  the  fall  of  my  9x12  cm.  camera  let  me  in  for  the 
severe  fever  I  went  through  at  Chingulungulu.  Besides,  I 
know,  by  those  I  have  developed  myself,  that  about  two-thirds 
of  my  thirty-eight  cinematograph  records  must  be  fairly  good, 
or  at  least  good  enough  to  use,  and  that  is  a  pretty  fair  propor- 
tion for  a  beginner.  Over  twenty  such  imperishable  documents 
of  rapidly  disappearing  tribal  life  and  customs — I  am  quite 
disposed  to  congratulate  myself  ! 

But  my  chief  ground  for  pride  is  the  quantity,  and  even 
more  the  quality  of  my  ethnological  and  sociological  notes, 
which  surely  will  not  be  an  entirely  valueless  contribution  to 
our  knowledge  of  the  East  African  native.     As  a  stranger 

25— {2131) 


386  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


in  the  country,  I  could  not,  of  course,  in  the  short  time  at 
my  disposal,  survey  all  the  departments  of  native  life,  but  I 
have  made  detailed  studies  of  a  great  many.  I  must  not 
forget  my  exceptional  good  fortune  with  regard  to  the  unyago  ; 
the  elucidation  of  these  mysteries  would  alone  have  amply 
repaid  the  journey. 

To  conclude  with  my  ethnographic  collection.  In  the 
Congo  basin,  and  in  West  Africa  I  should  probably,  in  the  same 
space  of  time,  have  been  able,  without  any  difficulty,  to  get 
together  a  small  ship-load  of  objects,  while  here  in  the  East 
a  collection  of  under  two  thousand  numbers  represents  the 
material  culture  of  tribes  covering  a  whole  province.  The 
number  of  individual  specimens  might,  indeed,  have  been 
increased,  but  not  that  of  categories,  so  thoroughly  have  I 
searched  the  native  villages  and  rummaged  their  huts  one  by 
one.    After  all,  the  East  African  native  is  a  poor  man. 

But  what  is  the  use  of  speculating  as  to  what  is  attainable 
or  unattainable  ?  The  sun  is  shining  brightly,  the  woods 
are  fresh  and  green  after  the  shower,  and  some  of  the  askari 
are  lounging  against  the  palisade  in  a  picturesque  if  untidy 
group.  The  metamorphosis  undergone  by  our  native  warrior 
in  the  course  of  the  day  is  certainly  surprising.  Smart  and 
active  on  the  drill-ground — they  look  on  their  drill  as  a  kind 
of  game,  and  call  it  playing  at  soldiers — he  is  just  the  reverse, 
from  our  German  point  of  view,  in  the  afternoon  and 
evening. 

It  must  be  acknowledged  that  he  knows  how  to  make 
himself  comfortable  when  off  duty.  He  has  his  boy  to  wait  on 
him,  even  to  take  his  gun  from  his  hand  the  moment  the  word 
has  been  given  to  "  dismiss  "  ;  and  the  respect  commanded, 
in  Africa  as  elsewhere,  by  anything  in  the  shape  of  a  uniform 
secures  him  the  best  of  everything  wherever  he  goes.  He 
lounges  through  the  hot  hours  on  his  host's  most  commodious 
bedstead,  and,  when  evening  comes  on,  sallies  forth  in  fatigue- 
dress  to  captivate  the  girls  of  the  place.  They  are  less  charming, 
it  is  true,  than  those  of  Lindi,  but  a  man  has  to  take  what 
he  can  get.  The  slovenly  figures  in  the  photograph  are  those 
of  Lumbwula  and  the  Nubian  Achmed  Mohammed,  taking 
their  ease  in  this  fashion. 

My  release  from  work  and  worry  has  worked  miracles, 


PLEASANT  TIMES  AT  MAHUTA 


387 


physiologically  speaking  ; — I  sleep  in  my  bed  like  a  hibernating 
bear,  wield  a  mighty  knife  and  fork  at  table  and  increase  in 
circumference  almost  perceptibly  from  day  to  day.  Moreover, 
we  hs-ve  been  living  fairh^  well  for  the  last  few  weeks.  The 
first  case  of  porter  was  followed  by  a  second,  and  various 
other  delights  came  up  at  the  same  time  from  Lindi — genuine 
unadulterated  milk  from  the  blessed  land  of  Mecklenburg, 
fresh  pumpernickel,  new  potatoes  from  British  East  Africa, 
tinned  meats  and  fruits  in  abundance,  and  so  forth.  The 
lean  weeks  of  Newala  are  forgotten,  and  our  not  much  more 
luxurious  sojourn  at  Chingulungulu  recedes  into  the  misty 
past.  The  evenings,  too,  are  pleasant  and  leisurely.  As 
decreed  by  a  kindly  destiny,  I  find  that  I  have  still  some  plates 
left,  but  no  chemicals  for  developing  and  fixing,  so  that  I  can 
photograph  as  much  as  I  like,  while  compelled  to  dispense 
with  the  trying  work  of  developing  the  plates  in  the  close  tent. 
Omari  has  provided  a  spatchcocked  fowl  for  our  evening  meal, 
which  smells  inviting  and  tastes  delicious.  He  has  here  revived 
for  our  benefit  the  primitive  process  of  roasting  already  known 
to  prehistoric  man,  which  consists  of  simply  holding  the  meat 
over  the  lire  till  done.  Only  one  innovation  has  been  intro- 
duced :  after  splitting  up  the  carcase  of  the  fowl,  Omari  has 
rubbed  salt  and  pepper  into  it.  This,  though  historically 
incorrect,  improves  the  flavour  so  much  that  it  is  quite  a 
pardonable  piece  of  vandalism. 

Here  come  my  carriers,  issuing  with  clean  clothes  and 
radiant  faces  from  their  temporary  lodgings  in  one  of  the 
thatched  huts  of  the  homa.  They  know  that  in  the  next  few 
days  we  are  going  on  safari  again,  the  goal  in  view  being  this 
time  the  eagerly  anticipated  paradise  of  the  coast.  And 
they  will  be  receiving  uncounted  sums  of  money  at  Lindi. 
Many  a  time  have  they  grumbled  at  the  Bwana  Mkubwa, 
because  he  refused  them  an  advance,  when  they  wanted  so 
very  much  to  make  a  present  to  some  pretty  girl  in  a  neigh- 
bouring village.  They  had  even  been  directly  asked  for  such 
presents,  but  the  Bwana  Pufesa  made  a  point  of  saying  to  any 
man  who  wanted  a  trifle  of  a  loan,  "  Nenda  zako" — ("  Be  off 
with  you").  He  was  very  hard,  was  the  Bwana  Pufesa,  but  it 
was  best  so,  after  all ;  for  now  we  shall  get  all  the  money  paid 
down  at  once — it  must  be  over  forty  rupees.     What  times  we 


388  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


shall  have  at  Lindi — not  to  mention  Dar  es  Salam  !  And  we 
will  go  to  the  Indian's  store  and  buy  ourselves  visihau 
hner  even  than  the  ones  sported  by  those  apes  of 
Waswahili. 

The  crimson  glow  of  the  sunset  is  still  hngering  on  the 
western  horizon,  while  the  full  moon  is  rising  in  the  east, 
behind  the  great  spreading  tree,  under  which  my  camera 
has  been  planted  day  after  day  for  the  last  few  weeks  ;  and 
I  am  watching  the  spectacle,  stretched  comfortably  in  my 
long  chair,  and  at  the  same  time  hstening  to  the  chant  of  the 
Wanyamwezi. 


hi  .  la  .  la     hi  .  la  .  la        yum  .  be    wa  .  li  .  la     ki   .     ja  .  na   wa  .  wa      se  , 


ya  kwe. 

li  1 

li  .  la  .  la   hi  .  ] 

;a.  ] 

la  yum.l 

)e  wa  .  li  -  1 

a    ki  -    ja  .  na   wa.wa      se  . 

e    wa .  to  .  gwa  mam.bas  .  ya  o    dya.  mu .  yin  .  ga   wa  .    wa    ne  .  ne     o     dya  . 


THE  RHYTHM  OF  LABOUR  389 


With  the  deep  notes  characteristic  of  the  Wanyamwezi, 
the  chant  penetrates  the  ear  of  the  European  hstener.  My 
men  have  often  sung  it  at  Newala,  at  Majahwa's,  and  here  at 
Mahuta,  always  accompanying  the  rhythm  of  the  song  with 
equally  rhythmical  movements.  It  is  a  hoeing-song.  The 
Mnyamwezi  going  out  into  the  fields  with  his  hoe  is  provided 
with  a  whole  repertoire  of  such  songs  ;  the  body  bends  and 
rises  in  regular  time  as  the  broad  blade  crunches  its  way  through 
the  soil,  and  the  chant  of  labour  sounds  softly  and  harmoniously 
over  the  wide  plain.  At  this  moment,  when  the  men  are 
squatting  round  me  in  picturesque  groups,  they  snap  their 
fingers  in  time  with  great  spirit  and  energy,  instead  of  going 
through  the  motions  of  hoeing. 

The  air  is  pleasing  enough  and  insensibly  steals  into  the 
consciousness  of  the  listening  European,  carrying  him  away 
from  the  harsh,  raw  nature  of  Africa  to  the  ancient  civihsation 
of  his  native  land,  which  the  busy  days  now  left  behind  have 
left  him  little  leisure  to  recall.  As  Pesa  mbili's  clear  baritone 
alternates  with  the  deep-toned  chorus  I  recall  the  black- 
smith at  the  forge,  seeking  the  rhythm  in  his  strokes  which 
keeps  his  arm  from  tiring  so  soon  in  wielding  the  heavy  hammer. 
It  takes  me  back,  too,  to  my  boyhood,  when  few  if  any  small 
farmers  owned  a  threshing  machine,  and  I  used  to  hear  from 
our  neighbour's  barn  the  triple  and  quadruple  time  of  the 
flails.  The  same  sort  of  rhythm,  too,  is  heard  in  our  streets, 
above  the  bustle  and  noise  of  traffic,  when  the  paviours  are 
ramming  down  the  stones, — ping,  ping,  ping,  ping,  ping,  ping, 
— each  note  louder  or  softer  according  to  the  degree  of  force 
employed,  but  all  in  the  strictest  time.  This  rhythm  is  the 
outcome  of  a  need  inherent  in  human  nature  :  it  precedes, 
indeed  it  is  indispensable  to,  any  sustained  bodily  exertion. 
This  is  felt  even  by  civilized  people,  as  we  see  when  the  striking- 
up  of  the  band  puts  new  life  and  vigour  into  the  tired  legs  of 


390 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


a  marching  regiment,  or  A\'hen  a  number  of  men  are  engaged 
in  moving  a  heavy  load  ;  and  it  is  true  in  a  much  greater 
degree  of  the  African.  I  am  convinced  that  he  cannot  accom- 
phsh  the  easiest  task  unless  he  accompanies  it  with  a  rapidly 
improvised  chant  ;  even  the  heavily-ironed  convicts  in  the 
chain-gangs,  push  or  pull  their  barrows  to  a  continuous  anti- 
phonal  chant.  Thus,  too,  when  a  number  of  people  are  hoeing 
a  field  together,  the  work  becomes  a  game  in  which  the  body 
spontaneously  falls  into  the  rhythmic  motions  of  the  dance  ; 
but  no  dance  is  without  its  song. 

The  song  comes  to  an  end  with  along-drawn  kweli  ("it  is 
true").  The  Wanyamwezi  are  famed  for  their  endurance, 
both  in  marching  and  singing,  and  the  above  performance 
has  lasted  for  a  considerable  time.  But  after  a  short  pause 
the  indefatigable  Pesa  mbili  begins  again, — this  time  with 
my  favourite  melody,  Kulya  rnapunda. 


kul  .  ya   ma  .  pun  .  da    wan  .  i  .  lam.ba         wa  .  ha  .  ya    na  .  ne      ly  .  a    ma  .  pun  .  da 


ku.li    ma  .  yu    ni   .    sa    ho.wa.nii.ti       na.no.wa.we  .  la     na   wa   po .  li  . 


ka    na  .  we  .  li     san  .  ga      na  .  li     san  .  ga    wa  .  le    lyangwi(la)  o    ku  .  mu  .  wa  .  na  .  ti 


A 

A  ^ 

A 

A 

A 

mo  ka.g 

is  -  ya   wa .  na  1 

a-  1 

ya  lya       ku .  li     ma  .  } 

u     ni    .     sa  ] 

la  .  wa .  I 

a  .  ti 

Solo 


THE  HOEING-SONG 

Chorus 


391 


san  -  ga 


lyangwi 


ku  -  mu  -  wa  .  na 


The  singing  has  exercised  its  usual  fascination  on  the 
European  auditor,  he  is  sitting  upright  and  vigorously  joining 
in,  to  -  the  dehght  of  the  performers.  This  hasimpo,  as  it  is 
usually  called  for  brevity's  sake,  is  sung  to  accompany  a  dance. 
In  the  hoeing-song  the  tune  and  the  words,  so  far  as  I  have 
been  able  to  translate  the  latter,  show  some  degree  of  con- 
gruity  with  each  other,  but  I  cannot  as  yet  make  head  or  tail 
of  what  Pesa  mbih  has  to-day  dictated  to  me  as  the  gist  of 
this  hasimpo  song.  For  the  sake  of  completeness  I  will  first 
give  my  attempt  at  the  translation  of  the  hilala. 

"  Work,  work.  The  headman  will  weep  for  his  son.  They 
love  the  white  ombasha,  he  is  strong.  Thanks,  the  son  has 
prophesied.  Oh  !  blockhead  that  I  am  !  my  mother  is  going 
away,  the  children  are  crying.  Do  not  cry,  do  not  cry,  do  not 
cry." 

As  will  be  seen,  it  is  confused  enough,  but  at  least  some 
parts  appear  to  have  a  connected  sense,  and  the  sililo  "  do  not 
weep,"  thrice  repeated,  sounds  rather  touching.  It  is  less  easy 
to  fit  the  07nbasha— the  corporal— into  the  framework  of  the 
song  ;  but  who  shall  fathom  the  profundities  of  the  African 
mind  ?  especially  when  it  is  the  mind  of  a  poet. 

The  dancing  song  is  as  follows  : — 

"The  Wairamba  are  eating  vegetables— they  are  eating 
vegetables,  I  say,  at  the  well.  When  you  get  home,  salute 
my  mother,  and  tell  her  I  am  coming.  So  I  said  and  the  police 
seized  the  devil.  We  set  down  our  loads  of  cloth  and  beads 
and  yet  again  beads.  The  sun  is  going  down,  the  time  for 
dancing  is  at  an  end." 

Here  again  the  reference  to  the  mother  is  a  pathetic  touch, 
but  the  police  and  the  nature  of  their  association  with  the 
Prince  of  Darkness  must  remain  a  mystery. 


392  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Now  comes  the  song  of  the  Standard  : — 


It  is  the  chant  of  the  Long  Trail — the  glorification  of  travel 
for  its  own  sake, — the  element  as  necessary  to  the  Mnyamwezi 
as  his  ligali : — "O  journey  !  O  journey  with  the  great  master, 
O  (delightful)  journey  !  He  will  give  cloth  to  the  young  men — 
O  journey,  O  beautiful  journey  !  " 

The  deep  bass  notes  have  died  away  slowly,  almost  mourn- 
fully, and  the  men  are  visibly  growing  sleepy  ;  in  fact,  it  is 
nearly  ten,  by  w^hich  hour  they  are  usually  rolled  up  in  their 
mats  and  dreaming  of  home.  A  questioning  glance  from  Pesa 
mbili  induces  me  to  give  the  signal  ;  the  whole  band  vanishes 
almost  without  a  sound,  and  I  am  left  alone.  Really  alone,  for 
Knudsen  has  been  away  for  some  days,  hunting  in  the  valley. 
The  people  there  sent  him  word  that  numbers  of  elephants 
had  been  seen,  and  after  that  there  was  no  keeping  him  back. 
He  hurried  off  at  such  a  pace  that  his  cook,  Latu,  and  his  boy, 
Wanduwandu,  a  splendid  big  Yao,  could  scarcely  follow  him. 
He  was  to  have  returned  at  noon  to-day.  I  wonder  what  has 
detained  him. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


MY  RETURN  TO  THE  COAST 

LiNDi,  towards  the  end  of  November,  1906. 

With  all  respect  to  my  camp-bed,  I  find  that  I  can  sleep  much 
more  comfortably  on  the  couch  provided  here  by  the  Imperial 
District  Commissioner,  with  its  three-foot-six  mattress  and 
spacious  mosquito-net  :  luxuries  which  I  have  been  enjoying 
for  the  last  week,  having  marched  into  Lindi  with  flying  colours 
on  November  17th,  after  a  toilsome  and  difficult  journey. 

The  outward  aspect  of  the  little  town  is  much  the  same  as 
when  I  left  it  in  July,  but  the  European  population  has  changed 
to  a  surprising  degree.  Hardly  any  of  the  old  residents  are 
left,  but  the  number  of  new  arrivals  from  Germany  is  so  great 
that  there  is  some  difficulty  in  getting  lodgings.  If  we  were 
in  an  English  colony,  I  should  say  that  there  is  just  now  a 
boom  at  Lindi  ;  as  it  is,  we  may  say  that  capital  has  discovered 
the  southern  districts  and  is  setting  about  their  economic 
exploitation.  It  is  said  that  all  the  good  land  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Lindi  is  already  taken  up,  and  later  comers 
will  perforce  have  to  put  up  with  more  distant  estates.  While 
personally  delighted  to  hear  that  the  southern  province, 
which  has  become  very  dear  to  me  in  the  course  of  my  stay, 
is  thus  prospering,  I  am  too  much  occupied  with  my  own 
affairs  to  have  any  further  concern  in  these  transactions. 

First  came  the  paying-off  of  the  numerous  extra  carriers 
whom  I  had  been  obliged  to  hire  for  the  transport  of  the 
collections  made  at  Mahuta.  The  amount  paid  out  was  not 
great,  as  the  recipients  had  not  been  called  upon  to  perform 
an  excessive  amount  of  work.  All  over  the  Makonde  plateau 
I  found  that  the  carriers  who  arrived  in  time  for  the  start  on 
any  given  day,  marched  with  the  caravan  as  far  as  that  night's 
halting-place,  but  as  regularly  disappeared  before  the  next 
morning,  in  spite  of  the  sentries  posted  all  round  our  camp. 
This  unreliability  caused  me  much  vexation  and  loss  of  temper, 
besides  the  waste  of  time  in  engaging  fresh  men  ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  I  saved,  in  every  such  case,  the  day's  wages,  which 

393 


394 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


these  deserters  never  gave  me  the  chance  of  paying  them. 
After  passing  the  Kiheru  valley  and  getting  into  the  Yao 
country  we  had  no  more  trouble,  the  men  there  being  quite 
willing  to  go  as  far  as  the  coast. 

My  Wanyamwezi  carriers  have  already  left  for  the  north. 
On  the  23rd  I  saw  them  on  board  the  steamer,  a  much  larger 
and  finer  boat  than  the  Rufiji  in  which  they  suffered  such 
misery  on  the  down  trip.  Probably  they  are  indulging  in 
happy  dreams  of  a  speed}^  return  to  their  far  inland  homes, 
and  of  the  way  in  w^hich  they  mean  to  lay  out  the  capital 
knotted  into  their  waistcloths  ;  but  in  reality  they  will 
probably,  on  the  day  after  landing,  find  themselves  starting 
on  a  fresh  expedition  with  the  "  chop-boxes  "  of  some  other 
white  man  on  their  heads.  At  this  time,  just  before  the  rains, 
carriers  are  very  scarce,  and  they  are  sure  to  be  seized  on  at 
once.  I  am  thus  dependent  for  packing  my  collections — the 
cases  previously  sent  down  to  the  coast  having  been  stored 
in  the  cellars  of  the  Government  offices,  w^here  they  have 
remained  undisturbed  except  by  the  innumerable  rats — on 
myself  and  my  remaining  men.  Among  these,  for  the  time 
being,  I  can  still  reckon  Knudsen,  who  lends  a  hand  right 
willingly,  in  spite  of  his  melancholy  looks.  He  does  not  like 
the  coast  ;  he  says  the  damp  climate  is  too  soft  for  him,  and 
he  cannot  get  on  with  the  white  men.  He  is  better  accustomed 
to  the  washenzi  in  the  bush,  w^ho  neither  worry  him  nor  look 
down  on  him.  He  is  only  waiting  till  I  have  left  for  the  north, 
before  going  west  once  more  after  antelope  and  elephant. 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  had  had  enough  of  that  sort  of  thing," 
was  my  well-meant  remark,  as  I  glanced  at  his  right  arm,  of 
which,  he  says,  he  has  not  yet  recovered  the  full  use.  It  is 
a  terrible  story. 

I  was  sitting  at  dinner  one  afternoon,  trying  to  eat  some 
mysterious  compound  out  of  a  Portuguese  tin,  which  proved 
on  examination  to  be  bacon  and  beans  (probably  a  part  of 
the  stores  originally  laid  in  for  Vasco  da  Gama's  expedition), 
when  J  heard  Moritz's  nasal  voice  announcing,  "  Bwana  mdogo 
anakuja''  ("  Mr.  Knudsen  is  coming  ").  I  turned  round  and 
saw  him  dragging  himself  along  with  uncertain  steps  ;  he  was 
covered  with  dust,  his  clothes  were  torn,  and  his  right  arm 
in  a  shng. 


KILLED  BY  AN  ELEPHANT  395 


"  Well,  old  Nimrod,  has  the  elephant  tusked  3^ou  ?  "  I  called 
out  to  him,  not  taking  matters  very  seriously. 

"  Not  that.  I  only  fell  and  broke  my  arm — but  my  poor 
Wanduwandu  is  dead.  He  died  just  now  ; — here  they  come 
with  him." 

In  fact  at  this  moment  I  saw  a  group  of  men  busy  over 
something  at  the  narrow  door  of  the  homa  ;  but  the  crowed 
was  too  great  to  see  what  it  was.  My  first  care  was  to  attend 
to  Knudsen's  arm,  which  was  badly  swollen,  though  I  could 
discover  no  indication  of  a  fracture.  The  only  thing  to  be 
done,  therefore,  was  to  apply  cold  w^ater  bandages  and  suppoi  t 
the  arm  in  as  easy  a  position  as  possible.  Knudsen  dropped 
into  his  chair  like  a  log  and  sank  into  gloomy  thought,  while  I 
went  to  look  at  the  corpse.  It  was  laid  out  on  a  kitanda 
or  native  bedstead,  under  a  shady  tree  at  the  other  end  of 
the  homa,  and  scantily  covered  with  a  cloth  ;  the  mouth 
was  open,  the  glassy  eyes  staring  vacantly.  Hemedi  Maranga 
came  up  and  closed  them,  while  I  examined  the  injuries.  I 
could  find  no  serious  wound  ;  the  tips  of  the  fingers  were 
crushed  and  bleeding,  and  the  skin  slightly  grazed  on  the 
left  temple,  which  also  showed  a  moderate-sized  swelling,  but 
that  was  all.  Notwithstanding  this,  the  Wali  and  I  agreed  that 
the  swelhng  must  indicate  the  cause  of  death,  and  on  feeling 
the  head,  we  found  that  the  skull  was  broken.  The  man  must 
have  received  a  terrible  blow,  but  a  blow  with  some  soft  object, 
otherwise  the  outside  of  the  head  w-ould  have  been  shattered. 

The  afternoon  brought  plenty  of  work.  The  dead  man  was 
sewn  up  in  a  piece  of  the  sanda  I  had,  in  accordance  with 
custom,  brought  with  me,  never  dreaming  that  I  should  have 
to  apply  it  to  its  traditional  use.  The  grave  was  dug  outside 
the  homa  just  beyond  the  crest  of  the  hill.  I  had  fixed  the  time 
of  the  funeral  at  sunset  ;  but  about  three  I  found  that 
Wanduwandu's  friends  and  relations,  thinking  this  too  long 
to  wait,  had  carried  off  the  corpse  in  order  to  proceed  with 
the  obsequies  on  their  own  account  ;  so  that  I  had  to  send 
off  my  fleetest  runner  with  orders  to  have  it  brought  back 
again.  At  six  my  whole  troop  was  drawn  up  on  funeral 
parade.  Here,  too,  I  noticed  the  instinctive  tact  of  the  native ; 
eVery  man  was  in  full-dress  uniform,  though  I  had  given  no 
orders  to  that  effect,  and  Hemedi  Maranga  was  wearing  his 


396 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


medal.  Of  all  the  natives  with  whom  I  have  come  in  contact, 
Wanduwandu  attracted  me  most  ;  he  was  a  splendid  figure 
of  a  man,  the  only  one  I  ever  saw  who  exemplified  the  "  Hercu- 
lean build  "  one  so  often  hears  of.  At  the  same  time  he  was 
quiet,  dignified,  and  yet  fully  conscious  of  his  strength.  He 
had  accompanied  the  expedition  for  some  months,  liked  by  all 
and  hated  by  none.  I  felt  it  quite  a  matter  of  course  that  I 
should  put  on  a  clean  white  suit  to  convoy  him  on  his  last 
journey,  though  he  was  "  only  "  a  native. 

I  had  already  seen  and  photographed  a  number  of  Yao 
graves,  but,  apart  from  human  sympathy,  I  was  naturally 
interested  in  witnessing  a  native  funeral,  and  therefore  did  not 
attempt  to  interfere  in  the  least  with  the  people's  arrangements. 
The  grave  had  been  dug  of  the  same  shape  as  in  Europe,  but 
much  shallower,  being  not  much  over  a  yard  in  depth ;  and 
the  men  had  also  made  it  much  too  short.  Two  of  the 
bystanders  at  once  came  forward  to  lengthen  it,  while  the 
corpse  was  waiting  to  be  lowered  ;  but  not  altogether  success- 
fully, for  if  in  future  times  any  excavations  are  undertaken 
on  that  spot  a  skeleton  will  be  found  lying  on  its  side,  with 
the  knees  drawn  up  in  a  squatting  position.  ^  Mats  were  spread 
over  the  body  to  prevent  its  coming  in  contact  with  the 
bare  earth,  which  the  native  likes  to  avoid,  even  in  death. 
Now,  however,  comes  an  exotic  touch.  Daudi,  the  native 
pastor  from  Chingulungulu,  had  been  with  us  for  some  days, 
having  been  sent  for  by  me,  that  I  might  talk  over  some  points 
in  nw  notes  with  him.  Wanduwandu  had  remained  a  heathen  ; 
in  fact,  when  Knudsen  and  I,  as  we  often  did,  asked  him,  teas- 
ingly,  whether  he  would  not  rather  become  a  Muslim,  or  even  a 
Christian,  he  always  shook  his  head  with  a  calm  air  of  superi- 
orit\^  "and  said  that  what  was  good  enough  for  his  fathers  was 
good  enough  for  him.  Nevertheless,  Daudi  was  in  attend- 
ance at  the  grave,  and  now  spoke  a  few  words  in  Swahili,  in 
which  I  clearly  distinguished,  "  Udongo  kwa  udongo,  majivu  kwa 
majivu  "  ("  Earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes").  A  few  boys — I 
had  not  previously  known  that  there  were  any  Christians  at 
Mahuta — then  sang  a  short  hymn  in  hushed,  grave  voices,  as 
the  sun  sank  glowing  in  the  west  ;    Daudi  softly  uttered  a 

^  This  was  probably  not  accidental,  as  the  Wayao  always  bury  their 
dead  with  the  knees  drawn  up.   See  Macdonald,  A  fricana,  i,  103. — [Tr,] 


WHO  WAS  RESPONSIBLE  ?  397 


prayer,  and  the  first  shovelfuls  of  yellow  sand  fell  with  a  dull 
sound  on  the  wrappings  of  the  corpse.  My  soldiers  marched 
away  in  precise  order,  the  rest  of  the  crowd  followed,  laughing 
and  joking.  Death  ?  What  more  is  there  to  say  about  it  ? 
It  may  happen  any  day  ;   that  cannot  be  helped.    Kismet  ! 

To-day,  the  visitor  to  Mahuta  will  find  on  the  spot  referred  to, 
a  plain,  low,  but  wcll-bu-Jt  stnicture— a  thatched  roof  supported 


WANDUWAXDU'S  GRAVE 


on  posts,  and  looking  accurately  east  and  west,  with  pieces  of 
coloured  calico  fluttering  in  the  breeze  from  its  ridge-pole. 
This  marks  Wanduwandu's  grave. 

But  it  was  only  after  the  funeral  was  over  that  Nils  Knudsen's 
mourning  really  began.  In  his  speculative  way,  he  has  been 
brooding  over  the  cause  of  death.  It  was  directly  caused — 
there  can  be  no  doubt  about  that — by  the  elephant,  a  huge, 
solitary  brute — a  "  rogue,"  in  fact.  Knudsen  first  fired  a 
couple  of  shots  at  him,  and  then  his  followers,  people  from  the 
Nkundi  plain,  poured  a  whole  volley  from  their  muzzle-loaders 
on  the  unlucky  beast.  The  elephant  sank  on  his  knees,  but 
pulled  himself  up  again  with  his  trunk,  and  charged  the  hunters. 
All  at  once  made  for  the  rendezvous  agreed  on,  but  Knudsen 
feU  while  running,  spraining  his  arm  and  losing  his  gun,  which 
was  flung  into  the  bushes  by  the  shock  of  his  fall.  When, 
after  some  time,  they  missed  Wanduwandu,  Knudsen  returned 
to  the  scene  of  the  encounter  and  heard  a  low  groaning.  He 


398 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


thought  at  first  that  it  proceeded  from  the  wounded  elephant, 
but  soon  found  his  faithful  follower  lying  senseless  under  a 
heap  of  branches.  Knudsen  did  not  notice  whether  the 
elephant's  tracks  passed  close  to  this  spot  or  not,  and  indeed 
even  now  he  does  not  clearly  recoUect  the  details  of  the 
tragedy.  It  may  be  assumed  with  tolerable  certainty  that 
Wanduwandu,  who  had  the  reputation  of  a  brave,  even  a 
rash  hunter,  crossed  the  track  of  the  infuriated  animal  and  was 
struck  down.  The  blood  spoor  of  the  elephant  was  lost  in 
the  bush. 

This,  then,  is  the  direct  cause  of  death,  and  for  matter-of- 
fact  Europeans  it  would  be  quite  enough,  but  in  this  country 
it  is  otherwise.  "  It  is  that  confounded  fat  woman's  fault  ; 
she  deceived  him  once  before,  and  I  expect  she  has  been  at 
the  same  games  again."  Such  is  the  conclusion  arrived  at 
by  Nils,  who  has  quite  fallen  into  native  ways  of  thinking. 
My  researches  at  Chingulungulu  had  revealed  to  me  the 
universality  of  the  belief  that  if  a  man's  wife  is  unfaithful  to 
him  while  he  is  hunting  elephants  in  the  bush,  he  will  be  sure 
to  meet  wdth  a  fatal  accident.  I  was  told  of  a  number  of  cases 
which  had  actually  happened,  and  even  the  names  of  the 
people  concerned.  Wanduwandu's  wife  is  a  buxom  woman 
who,  according  to  native  ideas,  is  strikingly  handsome — 
rotundity  and  beauty  being  equivalent  terms  in  this  country — 
and  wears  a  nose-pin  of  unusual  size  and  beautifully  inlaid. 
It  is  therefore  quite  natural  that  she  should  be  much  admired, 
and,  taking  this  circumstance  in  connection  with  her  husband's 
violent  death,  for  these  African  intellects,  and  for  Nils  Knudsen 
as  well,  the  logical  inference  is  that,  because  the  man  has  been 
killed  his  wife  must  have  betrayed  him. 

It  will  be  understood  that  I  was  at  first  very  sceptical  as  to 
this  interpretation  ;  but  I  must  now  confess  that  there  is 
really  something  in  it,  only  that  the  links  in  the  chain  of  cause 
and  effect  follow  each  other  in  a  somewhat  different  order  of 
time.  The  woman  is,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  indirectly  responsible 
for  her  husband's  death.  Knudsen  now  remembers  that 
Wanduwandu  was  strangely  excited  and  reckless  throughout 
the  expedition,  and  I  have  heard  from  other  quarters  that  the 
plump  wife  has  always  been  a  great  coquette,  and  that  there 
was  a  violent  scene  between  the  couple  immediately  before  his 


WANDU\VAXDU"S  WIDO\\' 


399 


departure.  Here  we  have  the  key  to  the  whole  enigma  ;  the 
elephant  did  not  kill  the  hunter  who  in  his  confusion  blundered 
into  his  wa}^  because  the  man's  wife  was  at  that  moment 
flirting  with  another,  but  because  the  wife's  behaviour  had 
already  driven  the  man  almost  to  desperation.  In  any  case 
it  is  instructive  to  see  how  occurrences  of  this  sort,  several 
times  repeated,  come  to  be  accepted  as  laws  of  nature. 

Wanduwandu's  death  did  not  change  the  date  of  our 
departure,  which  was  already  fixed  ;  but  it  was  noticeable 
that  even  our  men  were  more  eager  to  get  away  than  before. 

After  the  tragedy  Knudsen  found  himself  engaged  in  an 
obstinate  contest  with  the  widow,  who,  taking  advantage  of 
the  situation,  tried  to  bind  him  by  contract — on  the  ground 
that  he  after  all  was  the  only  one  to  blame  for  her  husband's 
death — to  supply  her  with  six  new  dresses  a  year.  On  the 
other  side  he  was  attacked  by  the  relatives  of  the  deceased, 
who  suddenly  appeared  in  swarms,  like  vultures,  and  demanded 
the  arrears  of  pa}^  due  to  him.  But  it  was  a  case  of  Greek 
meeting  Greek,  and  Nils  finally  decided  to  pay  over  the  money 
to  the  widow.  I  thought  that,  in  that  case,  she  would  be 
murdered  before  she  reached  Mchauru,  and  suggested  that  he 
should  send  a  messenger  to  deposit  the  money  with  Matola, 
as  the  headman  of  Wanduwandu's  native  district.  It  was 
explained  to  the  woman  that  she  could  claim  her  property — 
it  amounted  to  the  enormous  sum  of  four  rupees  and  three 
quarters— whenever  she  might  so  desire  ;  but  probably  she 
failed  to  understand  this.  At  any  rate,  on  her  departure,  which 
took  place  on  the  day  after  Knudsen's  final  refusal  to  contract 
for  an  annual  supply  of  clothing,  the  cook,  Latu,  missed  a 
quantity  of  ground-nuts  and  some  other  eatables  from  his 
master's  stores.  "  Let  her  just  come  again,  that's  all  !  "  said 
Nils,  outvvardl}'  indignant,  but  in  reality  visibly  reheved. 
There  is  no  ground  for  uneasiness  ;  such  a  beauty  is  not  likely 
to  remain  long  unwooed  in  a  country  like  this,  and  in  all 
probability  she  is  married  again  by  this  time.  Notwithstanding 
this.  Nils  stiU  urges  our  departure. 

Another  circumstance  has  been  making  my  stay  at  Mahuta 
less  and  less  agreeable.  Even  at  Nchichira  the  daily  devotions 
of  the  headman  and  other  ]\Iuhammadans  had  been  a  trial, 
beginning  before  daybreak  and  repeated  at  noon  and  evening. 


400 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Here  the  adherents  of  the  Prophet  are  more  numerous,  and 
their  faith  more  fervid,  besides  which  we  are  now  well  into 
Ramadan.  If  my  men  are  amusing  me  with  their  songs,  or 
themselves  with  new  ngoma  dances,  which  they  have  an 
astonishing  facility  in  inventing,  their  noise  drowns  the 
muttering  and  whining  of  the  nineteen  or  twenty  devotees 
under  the  Wah's  haraza.  But  if  the  latter  can  be  heard  alone, 
the  effect  is  simply  terrible.  The  Wali  leads  the  exercises ; 
his  voice  is  not  in  any  case  melodious,  but  w^hen  uttering  itself 
in  Arabic  gutturals,  it  fairly  gets  on  one's  nerves,  especially 
when  the  noise  goes  on  till  after  ten  at  night.  Unfortunately 
it  is  quite  impossible  to  interfere,  even  if  my  principles  as  to 
religious  toleration  did  not  forbid  it.  However,  I  made  an 
energetic  and  successful  protest  against  the  Wall's  habit  of 
conversing  at  the  top  of  his  voice  for  a  considerable  time  after 
dismissing  his  congregation,  and  all  the  time  spitting  copiously 
into  the  middle  of  the  homa  square.  I  told  him  that  so  long 
as  I  was  in  the  place  I  was  the  Bivana  mkubwa,  and  it  was  my 
business  to  determine  what  was  desturi  (custom),  and  what 
was  not  ;  and  I  expressly  desired  that  he  should  cease  to 
disturb  my  night's  rest. 

Another  inducement  for  a  speedy  return  to  the  coast  was 
the  opportunity  of  securing  a  free  passage  north  for  my  carriers 
by  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  II,  which  was  to  leave  Lindi  for  Dar  es 
Salam  soon  after  November  20.  If  I  kept  them  with  me  till 
my  own  departure  on  December  2,  I  should  not  only  have 
to  pay  a  good  deal  in  extra  wages,  but  also  a  large  sum  in 
steamer-fares  for  them,  as  the  boat  by  which  I  have  taken  my 
passage  belongs,  not  to  the  Government,  but  to  a  private 
company.  Finally,  I  desired  to  spend  a  short  time  on  the 
coast  in  order  to  study  the  records  of  the  criminal  courts — 
the  study  of  criminal  psychology  being  of  the  highest 
importance  in  ethnography. 

The  noise  on  the  morning  of  November  12  was  greater  than 
ever.  My  men  leapt  about  the  boma  like  sheep  in  a  panic, 
and  could  scarcely  await  the  word  to  start.  The  Wali  could 
not  be  denied  the  privilege  of  escorting  us  for  a  short  distance 
along  the  road.  Not  so  his  son,  a  lazy,  dirty  rascal,  who  has 
given  us  every  reason  to  remember  him  by  a  performance 
he  went  through  every  evening,  when  the  flag  was  lowered 


MACHEMBA'S  MANGO  PLANTATIONS  401 


for  the  night,  seizing  it,  if  he  thought  himself  unobserved, 
as  it  reached  the  ground,  and  sneezing  into  its  folds,  or 
otherwise  emplo3dng  it  as  a  handkerchief. 

There  is  not  much  to  record  about  the  march  to  Luagala. 
The  country  is  level  as  a  billiard-table,  but  the  vegetation  is 
far  finer  than  on  the  southern  side  of  the  plateau.  For  two 
days  the  road  passes  through  a  splendid  forest  of  large  trees  ; 
human  settlements,  and  the  horrible  scrubb}^  bush  inseparable 
from  them  being  entirely  absent.  Shortly  before  we  reach 
Luagala  (which  has  a  homa  garrisoned  by  half  a  company  and 
commanded  by  a  lieutenant  in  the  Imperial  Army),  the  country 
becomes  more  hilly,  and  presents  a  curious  aspect.  As  far  as 
the  eye  can  see  extend  groves  of  mangoes,  loaded  w^ith  fruit  ; 
but  not  a  soul  is  visible,  nothing  but  charred  ruins  of  huts  here 
and  there.  This  is  the  former  domain  of  Machemba,  that 
remarkable  Yao  chieftain  who,  like  the  famous  Mirambo  in 
Unyanyembe,  was  able,  by  the  prestige  of  his  name  to  gather 
bands  of  daring  spirits  round  him,  tyrannize  over  the  whole 
Makonde  plateau,  and  even  offer  effective  resistance  to  the 
German  troops.  The  battlefields  where  he  encountered  them 
are  still  shown  to  the  traveller.  About  ten  years  ago,  however, 
Machemba  preferred  to  leave  the  German  territory,  and  has 
since  lived  on  the  other  side  of  the  Rovuma,  almost  in  sight 
of  Nchichira,  terrifying  the  Portuguese  for  a  change.  The  old 
warrior  must  have  been  an  excellent  organizer  in  more  ways 
than  one  ;  a  stupid  man  would  never  have  thought  of 
mtroducing  this  cultivation  on  the  sandy  soil  of  this  particular 
part  of  the  plateau.  Luagala  may  be  well  situated  from  a 
strategic  point  of  view,  but  as  regards  its  water  supply,  it  is 
worse  off  than  any  Makonde  hamlet.  At  present  all  the 
drinking  water  has  to  be  fetched  from  a  place  twelve  or  fifteen 
miles  away. 

After  the  long  and  elaborate  dinner  with  which  Lieutenant 
Spiegel,  in  the  joy  of  his  heart  at  receiving  a  European, 
welcomed  us,  it  was  a  pleasure  on  starting  once  more,  to 
walk  through  the  cool  shade  of  the  forest.  The  road  sloped 
gently  downwards  for  some  time — then  the  incline  became 
steeper,  and  at  last  the  caravan  had  to  climb  down  an  almost 
vertical  declivity  to  the  Kiheru — a  little  stream  of  crystal 
clearness.    Such  water  is  so  rare  in  East  Africa  that  in  my 

26 — (2131) 


402 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


delight  I  had  already  filled  my  cup  and  was  lifting  it  to  my 
Hps,  when  Hemedi  Maranga  stopped  me,  saying,  Chungu, 
Bwana  "      It  is  bitter,  sir"). 

Saidi  Kapote  is  already  a  typical  lowland  settlement, 
consisting  of  scattered,  rectangular  houses  of  some  size,  with 
saddle-ridged,  thatched  roofs.  It  suffers  as  much  from  the 
evening  gale  as  the  other  villages  at  the  foot  of  the  hills. 
Hitherto  the  march  down  to  the  coast  has  resembled  an 
obstacle-race,  as,  owing  to  the  trouble  with  the  carriers  already 
mentioned,  w^e  have  every  morning  been  late  in  starting. 
Here,  too,  the  Makonde  engaged  yesterday  have  vanished 
without  leaving  a  trace,  and  though  the  headman  is  able  to 
supply  some  men  for  the  most  important  loads,  we  must  leave 
behind  those  less  urgently  needed,  and  trust  to  his  promise 
to  send  them  on  after  us. 

The  last  march  but  one  begins.  We  are  steadily  advancing 
eastward,  along  the  parallel  ranges  which  stretch  in  endless 
monotony  between  the  Kiheru  and  the  Lukuledi.  The  caravan 
is  now  very  numerous,  consisting  of  over  a  hundred  persons, 
and  in  the  sandy  soil,  which  here  makes  very  heavy  walking, 
the  line  straggles  out  to  such  a  length  that  both  ends  are  never 
in  sight  at  once.  However,  we  press  onward  untiringly,  hour 
after  hour.  At  the  Lukuledi  we  take  a  short  rest ;  then  on 
again.  At  last,  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  after 
marching  more  than  eight  hours,  we  camp  among  extensive 
palm  and  mango  groves,  a  short  hour's  walk  west  of  Mrvveka. 
Everyone  is  quite  worn  out — too  tired  to  put  one  foot  before 
the  other  ;  but  even  the  stupidest  boy  in  attendance  on  the 
soldiers  tosses  uneasily  in  his  dreams — for  we  shall  be  at  Lindi 
to-morrow,  and  he  is  looking  forward  to  the  splendour  and 
the  enjoyments  of  this  metropolis. 

Under  the  star-spangled  tropic  sky  my  brave  fellows  fall 
in  for  the  last  time,  and  for  the  last  time  the  noise  of  the 
caravan  getting  under  way  disturbs  the  silence  of  the  bush  on 
the  other  side  of  the  deep  ravine  in  which  the  Lukuledi  flows. 
In  the  Indian  quarter  of  Mrvveka,  sleepy  men,  women  with 
nose-rings,  and  gaudily  dressed  babies  start  up  in  affright,  when 
the  discordant  sounds  of  the  horns  blown  by  my  expedition 
reach  their  ears.  It  is  quickly  growing  lighter,  when  a  khaki- 
clad  figure  seizes  my  mule's  bridle  :   it  is  Herr  Linder,  the 


404 


NATIVE  LIFE  IX  EAST  AFRICA 


excellent  agricultural  inspector,  who  was  the  last  European 
to  say  good-bye  to  me  at  Ruaha,  and  is  now  the  first  to  welcome 
me  back.  His  presence  here  is  a  consequence  of  the  boom  at 
Lindi,  as  he  is  engaged  in  surveying  some  new  plantation  or 
other.  We  are  off  again  at  a  rapid  pace,  down  a  shghtly 
inclined  slope  to  the  left  ;  the  head  of  the  line  stops,  those 
coming  up  behind  him  crowd  on  each  other's  heels  ;  and,  on 
riding  up  to  see  what  is  the  matter,  I  find  that  a  broad  creek 
bars  the  way.  Being  a  stranger  to  the  country,  I  must  in  this 
case  be  guided  by  my  men.  These,  lifting  their  clothes  as 
high  as  their  shoulders,  have  waded  slowly  into  the  water. 
My  mule  resists  a  little  out  of  sheer  affectation,  but  soon  jogs 
on  bravely  after  the  rest.  All  reach  the  other  side  without 
mishap,  and,  after  a  short  pause  to  get  the  whole  party  together 
again,-  we  start  in  double-quick  time  for  Ngurumahamba,  which 
is  flooded  by  the  springtide,  the  water  having  almost 
penetrated  into  the  houses. 

We  have  done  with  the  wilderness.  The  road,  still  un- 
finished in  July,  is  now^  in  its  complete  state  a  masterpiece 
of  engineering  :  it  only  wants  a  few  motor  cars  to  be  a  perfect 
picture  of  twentieth-century  civilization.  The  last  halt  of  any 
length  is  at  the  foot  of  Kitulo,  where  Knudsen  insists  on  taking 
a  photograph  of  me  with  a  huge  baobab  as  background,  on 
the  ground  that  I  ought  to  be  handed  down  to  posterity  in 
the  garb  of  an  African  explorer.  My  men  in  the  meantime 
have  been  smartening  themselves  up  ;  and,  very  picturesquely 
grouped  among  the  bales  and  boxes,  they  are  scrubbing  away 
at  their  teeth,  which,  as  it  is,  could  scarcely  be  whiter,  with  a 
zeal  which  one  would  be  only  too  glad  to  see  among  some  of 
our  own  compatriots.  The  tooth-brush  (mswaki)  used  by 
these  natives,  is  a  piece  of  very  fibrous  wood,  about  eight 
inches  long,  and  as  thick  as  one's  thumb,  which  penetrates  into 
ever}'^  cranny  of  the  teeth  without  injuring  the  enamel,  and 
looks,  when  in  use,  like  an  enormous  cigar.  It  performs  its 
work  well  and  is  free  from  objection  on  the  score  of  hygiene, 
especially  as,  a  new  one  being  always  easily  procurable,  it  need 
never  remain  in  use  too  long. 

I  have  just  reached  the  top  of  Kitulo,  and  am  looking  back 
for  the  last  time  on  that  part  of  interior  Africa  in  which  I,  too, 
have  now  by  hard  work  won  the  right  to  be  called  an  explorer. 


"  THE  BIRD  HAS  GOT  AWAY  !  "  405 


when  Omari,  the  cook,  comes  panting  and  puffing  up  the  hill, 
and  roars  at  me  as  soon  as  he  comes  in  sight,  "  Ndege 
amekwenda  /  "  ("  The  bird  has  got  away  !  ").  In  fact,  the 
cage  which  for  some  weeks  past  had  contained  a  brightly- 
coloured  little  bird — a  kind  of  siskin — is  now  empty  ;  a  loose 
bar  shows  how  he  gained  his  freedom.    How  pleasantly,  all 


MV    ESCORT    CLEANING    THEIR  TEETH 


these  weeks,  his  song  has  enhvened  the  hot,  dusty  rest-houses 
in  which  we  have  been  living,  and  made  them  a  little  more 
home-like  ;  and  how  grateful  he  always  w^as  for  the  few  heads 
of  millet  which-  sufficed  for  his  keep.  Now,  he  is  off,  just  at 
the  moment  when  I  w^as  wondering  what  to  do  with  my  little 
friend,  knowing  that  he  was  not  likely  to  thrive  in  the  cold 
northern  winter,  and  doubting  whether  I  could  safely  entrust 
him  to  the  first  European  I  came  across.  His  escape  at  this 
moment  has  cut  the  knot. 

In  close  order,  the  soldiers  in  section-column,  the  Imperial 
Service  flag  unfurled  to  the  fresh  sea-breeze,  we  march  into 
Lindi.  My  carriers  are  strangers  to  the  place,  and  therefore 
the  cries  of  the  women,  which  usually  greet  every  caravan 
making  its  entry,  are  few  and  far  between.  Smartly  my 
soldiers  wheel  into  the  homa  square,  and  there,  as  I  am 
dismounting,  stiff  with  the  long  ride,  I  see  the  first  white  man 
approach  ;  he  greets  me  pleasantly  and  seems  honestly  pleased 


406 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


to  see  me.  A  second  comes  up.  "  Good  gracious  !  how  ill 
you  look  !  And  as  for  that  mule  of  yours,  if  it  doesn't  croak 
before  the  day  is  out  I'll  be  shot,  but  you'll  have  to  pay  for 
it  all  the  same  !  "  My  illusions  are  rudely  shattered.  I  turn 
away  and  beckon  to  the  corporal,  who  has  been  standing  a 
little  apart,  in  correct  military  attitude,  to  come  nearer. 
"  You  have  been  good  soldiers,  and  you,  Hemedi  Maranga,  the 
best  of  all.  I  am  going  to  make  a  big  feast  for  you.  But  now 
you  can  go  home  to  your  wives."  I  shook  hands  with  him, 
he  gave  the  word  of  command,  and  the  next  moment  the 
twelve  had  disappeared  into  the  barrack-yard,  while  I  went  on 
to  my  old  quarters.  Knudsen  is  right  ;  after  all,  it  is  better 
among  the  Washenzi. 

I  did  not  see  much  of  my  carriers  in  their  few  remaining  days 
at  Lindi,  but  I  heard  the  more.  Now  their  hour  has  come  : 
the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  is  swinging  at  anchor  out  yonder  on  the 
river,  and  will  start  to-morrow  at  daybreak.  My  men  are 
to  go  on  board  this  evening  at  sunset.  I  have  ordered  them 
to  be  in  front  of  the  post-office  (where  I  am  living  in  a  modest 
room  on  the  upper  floor)  at  half-past  five,  thinking  it  best  to 
see  them  as  far  as  the  harbour  myself.  The  appointed  time 
has  come,  but  not  a  carrier  is  to  be  seen.  I  wait  till  a  quarter 
to  six,  and  am  becoming  somewhat  uneasy,  when  I  am  aware 
of  the  gradual  approach  of  so  frightful  a  din  that  there  cannot 
be  the  shghtest  doubt  as  to  who  is  causing  it.  But  have  the 
twenty-four  been  suddenly  multiplied  by  three  ?  A  closely- 
packed  crowd  roars  and  surges  in  the  square  beneath  me  ; 
the  bass  voices  of  the  men,  the  shrill,  vibrating  cries  of  the 
women  make  up  a  pandemonium  of  sound  ;  but  no  disorderly 
actions,  take  place — in  fact  I  had  not  expected  any.  The 
crowd  follows  me  in  a  confused  mass  for  the  few  hundred 
paces  down  to  the  harbour,  where  the  ferry-boat  is  waiting. 
"  Bwana,  I  would  rather  stay  here,"  says  Kazi  Ulaya,  the 
handsome,  with  a  tender  look  at  the  fair  one  beside  him. 
"  Do  what  thy  heart  prompts,  my  son,"  I  reply  mildly. 
"  And  this  is  my  boy,  sir,"  says  Pesa  mbili  II,  of  Manyema, 
who  has  by  this  time  recovered  his  plumpness.  But  he  refrains 
from  introducing  to  me  the  hihi,  who,  in  some  embarrassment, 
is  hiding  behind  his  broad  back. 

"  Now  sing  those  fine  songs  of  yours  once  more." 


THE  LAST  OF  MY  CARRIERS 


407 


The  men  are  standing  round  me  in  a  serried  circle.  "  Kuya 
mupunda  "  goes  very  well  ;  the  pleasing  melody  rises  in  full 
volume  of  sound  above  the  voice  of  the  rushing  Lukuledi.  In 

Dasige  Murumbu,''  too,  the  singers  acquit  themselves  fairly 
well;  but  when  the  standard  song,  Yooh  nderule^''  begins, 
the  circle  seems  full  of  gaps,  and  my  eye  can  distinguish  in  the 
twilight  various  couples  scattered  here  and  there  among  the 
bushes  by  the  bank.  "  Ah  !  farewell  scenes,"  I  think  to 
myself,  but  soon  perceive  that  I  am  mistaken  ;  no  tender 
sentiments  are  being  discussed,  but  my  matter-of-fact  fellows 
are  throwing  themselves  like  wolves  on  the  last  repast  prepared 
for  them  by  loving  hands  before  the  voyage.  I  wish  them, 
sotto  voce,  a  good  appetite,  and  make  a  note  of  the  fact  that 
the  heart  of  the  native,  like  that  of  the  European,  can  be 
reached  through  his  stomach. 

The  ferr^^man  shouts  impatiently  to  hurry  them  up,  and  I 
drive  the  unattached  contingent  of  the  singers  down  into  the 
shallow  water.  Splashing  and  laughing  they  wade  towards 
the  boat  ;  the  darkness  has  come  on  rapidly,  and  I  can  only 
just  distinguish  the  white  figures  as  they  clamber  on  board. 
"  Yooh  nderule,  yooh  nderule,  hwana  mkuhwa  nderule  " — the 
familiar  sounds,  long  drawn  out,  ring  over  the  water  in  Pesa 
mbili's  voice — "  kuha  sumha  na  wogi  nderulewa,  yooh 
nderule  " — the  chorus  dies  away.  The  boat  has  disappeared 
in  the  darkness,  and  I  turn  my  steps  towards  the  mess-room, 
and  the  principal  meal  of  the  day,  where  I  am  once  more 
claimed  by  civihzation.    The  Weule  Expedition  is  at  an  end. 


ENTERING   THE    RED  SEA 


CHAPTER  XIX 

FROM  LIXDI  TO  TAN'GA 

Ox  Board  the  ss.  Kimig,  ix  the  Mediterraxeax,  off 
THE  ]\IouTHS  OF  THE  XiLE,  January  20,  1907. 

A  FEW  hours  ago,  in  losing  sight  of  the  palms  of  Port  Said,  we 
left  the  last  of  Africa  behind  us.  The  flat,  sandy  shore  of  the 
Egyptian  Delta  has  now  vanished  from  our  view,  and  a  grey 
waste  of  waters  lies  before  the  vessel  as  she  fights  her  way 
with  increasing  difficulty  against  the  rising  north-west  gale. 
The  jMediterranean  in  winter  is  not  inviting.  No  trace  in 
reality  of  the  ever-cloudless  sky  we  have  been  taught  to  look 
for  ;  and  Captain  Scharf,  who  certainly  ought  to  know,  says 
that  he  has  never  experienced  any  other  weather  here  at  this 
time  of  year.  This  season  is  always  cold  and  stormy,  forming 
no  pleasant  transition  between  the  delightful  temperature  of 
the  Red  Sea  in  winter  and  the  sub-Arctic  climate  of  the 
Atlantic  and  the  North  Sea.  We  shall  have  to  steam  along 
the  coast  of  Crete  and  to  pass  close  enough  to  the  southern 
extremity  of  Greece,  to  catch  sight  of  the  snow-covered  peaks  of 
the  Spartan  mountains  ;  so  much  does  the  head-wind  retard 
the  course  of  our  broad-bowed,  somewhat  old-fashioned  boat, 
which,  for  a  first-class  steamer,  makes  wonderfully  little  way. 
The  traveller  has  all  the  more  leisure  to  retire,  in  the 
comfortable  smoking-saloon,  into  the  solitude  of  his  own 

408 


DAR  ES  SALAM  AGAIN 


409 


thoughts,  and  take  stock  of  all  that  he  has  seen,  heard  and 
learnt  in  the  last  nine  months. 

The  evening  of  the  2nd  of  December  passed  very  pleasantly 
on  board  the  Kanzler  in  Lindi  roadstead.  One  could  scarcely 
make  out  where  so  many  white-clad  Europeans  came  from, 
all  at  once.  One  of  the  passengers  attributed  this  influx  to 
the  iced  Pilsener  which  Ewerbeck  and  I  lavished  in  unlimited 
quantities  in  the  high  spirits  of  departure  ;  but  this  suggestion 
is  scarcely  to  be  taken  seriously.  The  presence  of  a  German 
steamer  in  the  harbour  is  in  these  latitudes  always  a  festival, 
celebrated  by  most  people  whenever  it  comes  round.  And 
quite  rightly  so,  for  nothing  is  more  deadening  than  the 
monotony  of  workaday  life  in  Africa. 

The  trip  which  had  taken  the  Rufiji  three  days  of  hard  work 
was  performed  by  the  swift  Kanzler  in  one  day.  Early  on  the 
morning  of  the  fourth,  Ewerbeck  and  I  landed  at  Dar  es 
Salam  :  Ewerbeck,  in  order  to  take  his  final  leave  of  the 
Protectorate,  and  I,  to  give  account  to  the  Government  of 
the  financial  and  administrative  side  of  my  expedition.  For 
a  new-comer  like  myself  a  change  of  place  made  no  difference  ; 
but  the  Imperial  District  Commissioner  was  visibly  moved  by 
sad  and  serious  thoughts.  He  had  spent  the  best  part  of  his 
life,  over  fifteen  years,  in  the  development  of  this  very  part 
of  German  East  Africa  ;  and,  in  such  a  case,  a  man  does  not 
leave  the  scene  of  his  labours  with  a  light  heart. 

Dar  es  Salam  was  still  more  delightful  than  in  June.  At 
this  time  of  year  it  abounds  in  mangoes  of  every  size  and  every 
variety.  The  mango-tree  was  long  ago  imported  from  India, 
and  is  now  found  wherever  Indians  are  settled  in  East  Africa, 
whether  in  British,  German,  or  Portuguese  territory.  It  is 
certainty  a  pleasanter  immigrant  than  the  low-caste  Indian  ; 
it  somewhat  resembles  our  linden  tree  in  its  mode  of  growth, 
and  gives  a  pleasant  look  of  home  to  a  settlement.  The  fruit, 
sometimes  as  large  as  a  child's  head,  is  served  on  ice  at  every 
meal,  and  is  almost  equal  in  flavour  to  the  pine-apple. 

Into  this  pleasant,  easy  life  the  news  of  the  events  of 
December  13th  came  like  a  bolt  from  the  blue.  x\n  excellent 
hotel,  the  "  Kaiserhof,"  had  been  opened  just  before  my  return 
to  Dar  es  Salam,  and  I  had  the  great  pleasure  of  being  one 
of  its  first  guests.    We  were  almost  suffocated  with  comfort  : 


410 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


electric  light,  a  broad,  shady  verandah  outside  every  room,  a 
comfortable  bath-room  attached  to  each  apartment,  and  a 
more  than  luxurious  table  were,  together,  almost  too  much 
of  a  good  thing,  after  our  lean  months  in  the  bush.  Fortu- 
nately, however,  man  becomes 
accustomed  to  every  thing, 
even  to  good  living. 

I  have  seldom  seen  so  many 
long  faces  as  in  those  days, 
when  the  news  of  the  sudden 
dissolution  of  the  Reichstag 
burst  like  a  bomb  in  the  com- 
fortable, well-to-do  official 
circles  of  the  town.  It  seemed 
as  though  every  single  Euro- 
pean, down  to  the  lowest  sub- 
ordinate, had  been  personally 
affected  by  the  event  ;  all  the 
mess-rooms  were  loud  with  the 
dismal  prognostications  of  the 
croakers  as  to  the  black  future 
— or  rather  the  want  of  any 
future  —  before  the  colony, 
whose  inglorious  end  seemed 
placed  beyond  doubt,  as  each 
of  us  foresaw  that  the  General 
Election  in  January  would  ad- 
mit at  least  a  hundred  Socialists  to  the  Reichstag.  "And  of  course 
it  is  all  up  with  the  railways,"  was  the  stereotyped  refrain  of 
all  these  lamentations,  which  the  mourners  duly  drowned  in 
a  sea  of  whisky  and  soda.  Personall}^  I  am  convinced  that 
things  will  not  be  as  bad  as  that,  but  that  the  next  Reichstag 
will  show  at  least  as  much  feeling  for  the  colonies  as  its 
predecessor,  or,  indeed,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  still  more.  On 
January  25th  our  steamer  is  to  arrive  at  Genoa  ;  on  that  date 
the  elections  will  be  over,  and  on  the  following  day  we  shall  be 
able  to  get  a  general  survey  of  the  results,  and  form  some  idea 
as  to  the  fate  of  our  colonies  in  the  immediate  future. 

I  left  Dar  es  Salam  on  December  20th  by  the  Admiral,  a 
splendid  boat,  almost  new^,  and  rolling  far  less  even  than  the 


THE   AUTHOR   IX   BUSH  COSTUME 


TANGA  AND  THE  USAMBARA  RAILWAY  411 


Prinzregent.  It  was  also  more  comfortable  than  the  latter  ; 
it  was  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  all  the  cabins  were  full.  We 
had  still  more  English  on  board  than  in  the  spring  ;  many  from 
Cape  Town,  and  still  more  from  Johannesburg.  Accordingly, 
the  prevailing  style  of  dress  was  noticeably  luxurious.  This 
time  I  w^as  able  to  go  ashore  at  Tanga,  and  even  see  something 
of  the  Usambara  railway.  Captain  Doherr,  with  his  usual 
foresight,  had  (probably  remembering  the  managerial  functions 
which  he  had  been  called  upon  to  perform  a  few  months  pre- 
viously, in  the  service  of  the  eight  Deputies)  arranged  for  a 
special  train  to  be  ready  for  the  passengers,  or  at  least  for  such 
as  wished  to  avail  themselves  of  it.  With  this  we  made  the  run 
to  Muhesa,  where  the  expedition  was  brought  to  a  halt  by  means 
of  enormous  dishes  of  sandwiches  and  trays  of  whiskies  and 
sodas.  Something  is  really  being  done  in  the  north-east  of  the 
colony,  as  one  can  see  even  from  the  train  ;  it  is  true  that  not 
all  the  land  is  yet  under  cultivation,  but  every  bit  of  it  is  already 
in  the  hands  of  a  permanent  owner,  even  far  beyond  the 
rail-head. 

There  were  grand  doings  at  Tanga  in  the  evening.  This 
town  enjoys  a  whole  series  of  advantages.  In  the  first  place, 
it  is  the  nearest  to  the  mother-country  of  all  our  East  African 
ports,  and  thus  constitutes  the  gateway  to  the  colony.  In  the 
second  place,  the  harbour  is  tolerably  good  ;  the  bay,  indeed, 
is  not  land-locked  to  the  same  extent  as  that  of  Dar  es  Salam, 
but,  like  the  latter,  it  has  sufficient  anchorage  within  a  short 
distance  of  the  shore.  The  most  important  point,  however,  is 
its  nearness  to  Usambara,  the  choicest  part  of  our  territory 
as  regards  climate  and  soil.  Usambara  has  but  one  fault  :  it 
is  not  large  enough  to  accommodate  all  would-be  settlers. 
It  is  said  that  even  now  the  available  land  has  been  allotted, 
and  there  is  no  chance  for  later  apphcants.  ]\Iany  of  these 
are  now  staying  at  Tanga,  or  on  their  way  south  to  seek  new 
fields  for  their  energies  :  in  fact,  the  boom  at  Lindi  was  in 
great  part  caused  by  the  congestion  in  the  north.  The 
economic  centre  of  gravity,  therefore,  for  our  whole  colonial 
activity  lies  at  present  in  this  north-eastern  district.  This, 
by  the  bye,  is  evident  from  the  whole  aspect  of  European 
life  at  Tanga.  After  passing  many  months  on  end  in  the 
Usambara   mountains,    with   no    opportunities    for  social 


412 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


intercourse,  the  planter  suddenly  feels  the  need  of  society,  and 
in  a  few  hours'  time  we  may  behold  him  seated  in  the  club  at 
Tanga. 

Where  there  are  Germans,  there  is  also  music.  Dar  es  Salam 
enjoys  the  advantage  of  two  bands — that  of  the  sailors  from 
the  two  cruisers,  and  that  of  the  askari.  Both  are  under 
official  patronage,  but  I  cannot  say  much  for  the  proficiency 
of  the  native  performers :  in  any  case,  their  music  was  accom- 
panied by  a  great  deal  of  noise.  At  Tanga  it  is  not  in  economic 
matters  only  that  the  residents  assert  their  independence 
— even  the  Boys'  Band  of  that  town  is  a  purely  private 
enterprise.  Tanga  is  a  scholastic  centre  par  excellence, 
hundreds  of  native  children  being  instructed  in  the  elements 
of  European  knowledge  and  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  the 
German  tongue,  which,  indeed,  one  finds  that  all  the  little 
black  imps  can  speak  after  a  fashion.  The  more  intelligent, 
in  whom  their  teachers  discover,  or  think  they  discover,  any 
musical  gift,  are  admitted  to  the  famous  Boys'  Band.  This  is 
just  now  in  excellent  training.  When  the  passengers  from  the 
Admiral  presented  themselves  in  the  evening  on  the  square  in 
front  of  the  Club,  the  band  turned  out  to  welcome  them,  and 
the  playing  was  really  remarkably  good. 


CHAPTER  XX 


RETROSPECT 

At  the  Entrance  to  the  Red  Sea. 

Christmas  and  New  Year's  Eve  were  passed  at  sea,  with 
the  usual  festivities  ;  the  latter,  on  which  the  dancing  was 
kept  up  with  equal  enthusiasm  and  energy  by  German  and 
English  passengers,  was  also  the  eve  of  our  arrival  at  Suez. 

About  noon  on  the  first  day  of  January,  1907,  I  set  foot  on 
the  soil  of  Egypt,  which  I  have  only  just  left,  after  a  stay  of 
nearly  three  weeks.  I  had  a  great  desire  to  study  the  relics 
of  ancient  Egyptian  culture  on  the  spot,  and  therefore  left 
Cairo  and  its  neighbourhood  as  speedily  as  possible  for  Upper 
Egypt — Luxor,  Karnak  and  Deir  el  Bahri.  From  a  climatic 
point  of  view,  also,  Cairo  was  not  well  adapted  for  an 
intermediate  station  between  the  tropics  and  the  winter  of 
Northern  Europe.  One  after  another  of  our  passengers 
remaining  behind  for  a  tour  in  Egypt  became  indisposed. 
Some,  therefore,  took  the  next  boat  for  Germany,  arguing  that 
their  colds  "  would  cost  less  at  home,"  while  others  made  off 
up  the  Nile  by  train  de  luxe,  in  order  to  accustom  themselves 
slowly  and  carefully  in  the  glorious  desert  air  of  Assuan  to  the 
sub-arctic  climate  of  Ulaya. 

The  Assuan  dam  is  historically  a  piece  of  Vandalism, 
technically  a  meritorious  piece  of  engineering,  economically  a 
truly  great  achievement.  The  narrow-gauge  railway  winds 
up  the  Nile  in  sharp  curves  between  Luxor  and  Assuan. 
Sometimes  the  Nile  flows  in  immediate  proximity  to  the 
track — sometimes  there  is  a  narrow  strip  of  alluvial  level 
between  the  sacred  stream  and  the  new  unholy  iron  road.  All 
this  time  one  is  oppressed  by  the  narrowness  of  the  country  ; 
it  seems  as  if  the  first  high  wind  must  blow  the  sand  right  across 
it  and  bury  it  altogether.  Suddenly  the  bare  hills  on  the  left 
retreat  :  a  wide  plain  opens  out  before  us,  only  bounded  in  the 
far  distance  by  the  sharp  contours  of  the  hills  in  the  Arabian 
Desert.  The  plain  itself,  too,  is  a  desert — but  how  long  will 
it  remain  so  ?  Turn  to  the  right  and  consider  the  great  block 
of  buildings  which  meets  your  eye.    It  is  neither  Egyptian  nor 

413 


414  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


Arabian,  there  is  none  of  the  dirt  of  Fellah  barbarism  about  it  ; 
on  the  contrary,  it  represents  the  purest  Anglo-American 
factory  style.  The  tall  chimney  crowning  the  whole,  and 
emitting  a  dense  cloud  of  smoke,  forms  an  incongruous  contrast 
with  its  surroundings — the  silver  Nile  with  its  border  of  green 
lields,  running  like  a  ribbon  across  the  boundless  sands  of  the 
desert  to  east  and  west.  Look  before  you  at  the  straight  canal 
crossing  the  plain  and  lost  to  sight  in  the  distance  and  the 
ditches  and  channels  by  which  it  distributes  the  Nile  water 
in  all  directions,  with  perfect  regularity.  The  building  is  a 
pumping-station,  established  to  restore  the  desert  plain  by 
irrigation  to  its  former  fertihty.  Now  it  is  still  perfectly  bare  : 
in  a  few  months'  time,  it  will  be  a  sea  of  waving  corn  with 
stalks  bearing  fruit  a  hundredfold. 

The  economic  exploitation  of  the  Upper  Nile  Valley  is  an 
example  which  ought  to  be  followed  by  our  own  colonial 
administration.  Without  a  resolute  purpose,  without  capital, 
and  without  accurate  knowledge  of  the  country  and  its 
resources,  even  that  English  or  American  company  could  do 
nothing.  We  need  all  three  factors,  if  we  want  to  make  any 
progress,  whether  in  Eastern  or  in  South- Western  Africa,  in 
Kamerun  or  in  Togo.  There  is  only  one  small  point  of 
difference — the  alluvial  soil  of  the  Nile  Valley,  accumulated 
through  many  myriads  of  years  needs  nothing  but  irrigation  to 
once  more  make  it  into  arable  soil  of  the  first  quality.  The  Nile, 
wisely  regulated,  is  the  magic  wand  which  will,  almost  instan- 
taneously, change  the  desert  into  a  fruitful  field.  This  trans- 
forming agency  is  absent  in  the  bush  and  steppes  of  German 
East  Africa.  It  is  true  that  that  country  possesses  numerous 
streams,  but  at  present  their  volume  of  water  is  subject  to  no 
regulation,  and  none  of  them  is  navigable  on  the  same  imposing 
scale  as  the  Nile.  In  the  course  of  years,  no  doubt,  the  Pangani 
will  become  an  artery  of  traffic,  as  also  the  Rufiji,  and  perhaps 
our  frontier  stream,  the  Rovuma  ;  but  it  will  not  be  within  the 
lifetime  of  the  present  generation. 

The  soil  of  German  East  Africa,  too,  cannot  be  compared 
with  that  of  Egypt  ;  it  is  no  alluvial  deposit,  rich  in  humus, 
but  in  general  a  tolerably  poor  one,  produced  by  the  weathering 
of  the  outcropping  rocks  and  not  to  be  rendered  fertile  by 
moisture  alone.    Nevertheless,  so  far  as  I  am  able  to  judge, 


THE  AFRICAN  TABLE-LAND  415 


the  water  question  remains  the  cardinal  one  in  our  colonial 
agriculture.  At  Saadani  they  have  begun  at  once  to  do  things 
on  the  grand  scale,  breaking  up  large  areas  with  steam-ploughs, 
in  the  hope  that  wholesale  cotton  cultivation  may  put  an  end 
to  the  American  monopoly.  So  far  this  is  very  good  ;  the 
temperature  is  favourable,  and  the  soil  quite  suitable  for  such 
a  crop.  One  factor  only  is  uncertain  :  German  East  Africa, 
like  India,  is  never  able  to  reckon  on  a  normal  amount  of 
atmospheric  moisture — and,  if  the  rains  fail,  what  then  ? 

The  Dark  Continent  has  often  been  compared  to  an  inverted 
plate.  The  land  slopes  gently  upwards  from  the  sea-shore, 
the  angle  of  inclination  gradually  becoming  greater,  till  we 
have  a  bordering  range  of  mountains  of  considerable  height. 
But  it  is  only  as  seen  from  the  coast  that  this  range  can  be 
said  to  have  a  mountainous  character  ;  once  he  has  crossed  it, 
the  traveller  finds  that,  as  on  the  heights  of  the  Harz  or  the 
Rhenish  slate  mountains,  he  is  on  a  plain  almost  level  with 
its  summit.  To  carry  out  the  comparison  with  the  plate,  we 
may  say  that  he  has  now  crossed  the  narrow  ledge  at  the 
bottom,  and  is  now  walking  over  the  horizontal  surface  within 
that  iedge. 

This  peculiar  conformation  has  to  be  taken  into  account  by 
those  engaged  in  developing  our  colonies,  i.e.,  in  the  first  place, 
it  is  responsible  for  the  fact  that  the  rivers  are  navigable  only 
to  a  very  slight  degree,  if  at  all.  In  the  second  place,  the 
greater  part  of  the  rainfall  is  precipitated  on  the  seaward 
slope  of  the  range,  while  its  other  side  is  almost  rainless,  which 
accounts  for  the  arid  character  of  Ugogo  and  the  neighbouring 
districts.  Yet  the  greater  part  even  of  this  interior  has  a  soil 
on  which  any  crops  which  can  be  cultivated  at  all  in  Equatorial 
Africa  are  well  able  to  thrive.  The  planter  there  is  fortunate 
in  being  able  to  count  on  the  vivifying  influence  of  the  tropical 
sun,  which,  throughout  the  year,  conjures  flourishing  fields  out 
of  the  merest  sand.  In  the  south  I  was  able,  day  after  day, 
to  convince  myself  of  the  truth  of  this  assertion. 

The  South  has  hitherto  been  the  Cinderella  of  our  colonial 
districts,  and  I  fear  it  is  likely  to  remain  so.  The  prejudice  as 
to  its  barrenness  has  deterred  both  official  and  private 
enterprise.  It  is  true  that  neither  the  Mwera  Plateau  nor  the 
Makonde  highlands,  nor  the  wide  plains  extending  behind 


416  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


these  two  upland  areas,  between  the  Rovuma  in  the  south 
and  the  Mbemkuru  or  the  Rufiji  in  the  north,  can  be  called 
fertile.  Sand  and  loam,  loam  and  sand,  in  the  one  case,  and 
quartz  detritus  in  the  other,  are  the  dominant  note  of  the 
whole.  Yet  we  have  absolutely  no  reason  to  despair  of  this 
country,  for  if  the  native  can  make  a  living  out  of  the  soil, 
without  manuring  and  with  none  of  the  appliances  of  our 
highly-developed  intensive  farming — if  this  same  native  is  in  a 
position  to  export  an  appreciable  fraction  of  his  produce  in 
the  shape  of  sesamum,  ground-nuts,  rubber,  wax,  cereals  and 
pulse — it  would  surely  be  strange  if  the  white  man  could  not 
make  much  more  out  of  the  same  ground. 

One  thing,  indeed,  must  never  be  forgotten  :  neither  this 
district  nor  Africa  in  general  is  a  pays  de  Cocagne  where  roast 
pigeons  will  fly  of  their  own  accord  into  people's  mouths  ; 
work,  unceasing,  strenuous  work,  is  just  as  much  an 
indispensable  condition  of  progress  as  in  less  happy  climates. 
We  have  had  sufficient  opportunity  to  observe  and  appreciate 
this  persevering  industry  in  the  case  of  the  Makonde,  the  Yaos, 
and  the  Makua.  And  we  may  be  sure  of  one  thing,  that  the 
European  planter,  whether  in  the  north  or  the  south,  on  the 
coast  or  in  the  interior,  will  not  have  a  much  easier  time  than 
these  people.  That,  however,  will  do  him  no  harm  ;  on  the 
contrary,  the  harder  the  struggle  for  existence,  the  more 
vigorous  has  been  the  development  of  a  colony  throughout  the 
whole  course  of  human  history.  The  United  States  of  to-day 
are  the  standing  proof  of  this  assertion  ;  the  South  African 
colonies,  now  developing  in  a  most  satisfactory  manner,  speak 
no  less  clearly,  and  other  cases  in  point  might  easily  be  adduced. 

The  waves  are  running  higher,  "the  Konig  having  more 
breadth  of  beam  than  depth,  does  not  roll,  but  cannot  help 
shipping  more  seas  than  she  would  like.  Ought  I,  in  face  of 
this  grand  spectacle,  to  let  myself  be  absorbed  in  useless 
forecasts  of  the  future  ?  My  friend  Hiram  Rhodes's  taunt 
about  "  pohtical  childhood  "  was  cruel — yet  there  was  some 
truth  in  it,  and  not  as  regards  the  Zanzibar  treaty  only.  We 
Germans  have  begun  colonizing  three  hundred  years  later 
than  other  nations,  and  yet  Dick,  Tom  and  Harry  are  raising 
an  outcry  because  our  colonies,  acquired  fully  twenty  years 
ago,  do  not  yet  produce  a  surplus.    The  honest  fellows  think 


COLONIAL  EMPIRES  AND  THE  HISTORIC  SENSE  417 


that  "  South-West  "  alone  ought  to  be  in  a  position  to  reheve 
them  from  the  necessity  of  paying  any  taxes  whatever.  One 
could  tear  one's  hair  at  such  folly  and  such  utter  lack  of  the 
historic  sense.  Most  books  are  printed  in  Germany — none  are 
bought,  and  but  few  read  there.  Among  these  few  we  can 
scarcely  include  any  works  on  colonial  history,  otherwise  it 
would  be  impossible  that  even  colonial  experts  should  know 
so  little  of  those  thousand  conflicts,  difficulties  and  reverses 
experienced  to  their  cost  by  the  English  in  India,  in  the  South 
Seas,  in  Africa,  and  in  America,  and  which  over  and  over  again 
might  well  have  disgusted  the  Dutch,  the  Spaniards,  and 
the  Portuguese  with  their  extensive  colonial  possessions. 
Unconsciously  influenced  by  the  wealth  of  England  and  the 
afiluence  of  Holland,  both  in  great  part  arising  from  their 
foreign  possessions,  we  are  apt  to  forget  that  three  centuries 
are  a  period  fifteen  times  as  long  as  our  own  colonial  era,  and 
that  at  least  ten  generations  of  English  and  Dutch  have  won 
by  hard,  unceasing  work  what  we  expect  to  receive  without 
effort  on  our  part.  I  am  firmly  convinced  that  we  shall  never 
learn  to  appreciate  our  really  splendid  possessions  till  a  more 
thorough  system  of  instruction  has  supplied  the  want  above 
referred  to — doubly  inexcusable  in  a  nation  whose  intellectual 
pre-eminence  is  everywhere  acknowledged. 

Such  historic  sense  is  to  be  gained  by  putting  two  kinds  of 
capital  into  the  colonies — the  blood  shed  for  their  preservation 
and  development,  and  the  hard  cash  spent  on  the  utilization 
of  their  resources. 

To  illustrate  the  extent  of  the  British  Colonial  Empire  and 
its  distribution  throughout  the  world,  it  is  often  pointed  out 
that  the  mother  country  is  seldom  without  a  colonial  war  of 
some  kind.  This  is  true  in  the  present,  and  it  has  also  been 
true  in  the  past  :  England  has  in  fact  always  had  to  fight  for 
her  dominions  beyond  sea.  Undoubtedly,  this  three  hundred 
years'  struggle  for  possession,  which,  under  her  special 
circumstances  has  often  been  for  England  a  struggle  for 
existence,  is  the  principal  ground  for  the  peculiarly  close  and 
intimate  relation  between  the  mother  country  and  the  daughter 
states.  Hardly  a  family  but  has  dear  ones  buried  in  Indian 
or  African  soil.  This  fact  at  first  attaches  to  the  country  a 
painful  interest,  which  very  soon  gives  rise  to  an  interest  of 
27— {2131) 


418  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


another  sort.  The  truth  of  this  doctrine  has  been  illustrated 
in  the  saddest  way  for  us  by  the  sanguinary  war  in  South 
Western  Africa. 

The  other  kind  of  capital — the  monetary — cannot  be 
discussed  in  the  case  of  our  colonies  without  touching  on  the 
railway  question.  What  complaints  have  been  made  of  the 
invincible  reluctance  of  German  capitalists  to  engage  in 
colonial  undertakings  !  I  am  not  myself  a  wealthy  man,  but, 
if  I  had  a  million  to  lose,  I  should  nevertheless  hesitate  before 
investing  it  in  a  country  without  means  of  communication, 
being  entirely  devoid  of  natural  ones,  while  artificial  ones  are 
as  yet  only  in  the  elementary  stage.  At  home,  every  one  is 
now  expecting  great  things  from  the  new  driver  of  our  colonial 
chariot.  Herr  Dernburg  is  a  trained  financier,  and  he,  perhaps, 
can  succeed  where  others  have  failed — in  the  completion  of 
the  great  railway  system  projected  long  ago,  and  in  procuring 
the  no  less  necessary  financial  resources. 

Lastly,  the  native  is  not  without  an  important  bearing  on 
the  future  of  our  East  African  colony.  As  an  ethnographer,  I 
am  in  a  better  position  to  form  an  opinion  about  him  than  with 
respect  to  other  questions,  in  which  the  outsider  like  myself 
has  only  common  sense  to  guide  him.  The  black  man  is 
pronounced  by  some,  "  an  untrained  child ;  "  by  others, 
"  utterly  depraved  and  incurably  lazy."  There  is  yet  a  third 
party  who  are  inclined  to  leave  him  at  least  one  or  two  small 
virtues,  but  these  are  steadily  shouted  down.  It  is  true  that 
the  native  population  of  the  Coast  towns  have  a  horror  of  any 
serious  work,  and  look  down  on  it  as  a  lowering  of  themselves  ; 
but  I  think  we  may  be  permitted  to  entertain  a  better  opinion 
as  to  the  great  mass  of  the  people  in  German  East  Africa.  The 
most  numerous  tribe  in  the  whole  colony  are  the  Wanyamwezi, 
who  are  estimated  at  about  four  million  souls,  and  occupy  the 
whole  central  area  east  of  the  Great  Rift  Valley.  No  one  has 
yet  ventured  to  doubt  their  industry  or  their  capacity  for 
progress  ;  they  are  excellent  agriculturists,  and  at  the  same 
time  they  were,  for  a  whole  century,  the  mainstay  of  the 
caravan  trade  between  the  coast  and  the  heart  of  the  continent. 
Before  long  this  traffic  must  in  the  nature  of  things  cease,  but 
we  have  no  right  to  suppose  that  the  Wanyamwezi  will  there- 
fore become  superfluous.    A  glance  over  the  reports  of  the 


NATIVE  AGRICULTURE 


419 


Uganda  Railway  will  show  us  how  fortunate  we  are  in 
possessing  such  an  element  in  the  social  structure  as  this 
vigorous  tribe.  Let  us  then  be  wise  enough  to  encourage  and 
develop  this  economic  force  for  the  native's  own  benefit,  and 
above  all  to  get  the  full  advantage  of  it  ourselves.  What  is 
true  of  the  Wanyamwezi  is  also  true  of  many  other  tribes. 
Even  now,  I  cannot  forget  the  impression  made  on  me  by 
the  high  average  of  the  farming  which  I  saw  among  my  friends 
in  the  Rovuma  Valley.  People  who,  however  often  they  have 
been  displaced,  still  cling  so  firmly  to  the  soil,  must  certainly 
have  great  potentialities  for  good,  or  all  the  teachings  of  racial 
psychology  and  history  are  falsified.  This  unexpectedly  high 
stage  of  culture  can  only  be  explained  by  an  evolution  extending 
over  a  period  of  incalculable  length.  There  is  nothing  to 
disprove  the  great  antiquity  of  agriculture  among  the  Bantu  ; 
they  are  conservative,  as  their  continent  is  conservative  ;  the 
few  alien  elements  still  in  the  economic  stage  of  the  collector 
and  hunter — the  Bushmen  in  the  most  arid  parts  of  the  south, 
and  the  Pygmies  in  the  most  inaccessible  forests  of  Central  and 
West  Africa — must  have  been  crowded  out  by  them  many 
centuries  ago. 

The  farming  of  our  natives  is  done  entirely  with  the  hoe — 
that  implement-oi-all-work,  with  the  heavy  transverse  blade 
which  serves  alike  for  breaking  up  and  cleaning  the  ground, 
for  sowing  the  crops,  and,  to  a  certain  extent,  for  reaping 
them.  We  are  too  much  inclined  to  think  of  this  mode  of 
cultivation  as  something  primitive  and  inferior,  and,  in  fact, 
in  so  far  as  it  dispenses  with  domestic  animals,  whether  for 
work  or  for  the  supply  of  manure,  it  is  really  very  far  behind- 
hand. But  we  must  also  take  into  account  that  some  parts 
of  our  colonies  are  infested  with  the  tsetse-fly,  and  that  the 
system  of  cultivating  narrow  strips  of  ground  entirely  with 
the  hoe  really  marks  a  very  high  stage  of  farming.  The  best 
proof  of  this  is  the  retention  of  the  narrow  bed  in  our  gardens, 
where  the  cultivation  can  scarcely  be  said  to  be  of  a  more 
elementary  description  than  that  of  our  fields.  It  is  significant, 
too,  that  for  the  more  intensive  forms  of  culture  when  carried 
on  in  the  open  fields,  e.g.,  flower-growing,  as  near  Erfurt, 
Qaedlinburg,  Haarlem,  etc.,  and  market-gardening  as  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Brunswick,  Hanover,  Mainz,  and  other  large 


420 


NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


towns,  the  long,  narrow  bed  is  most  in  favour.  Moreover,  it  is 
difficult  to  see  how  the  native  could  cope  with  the  weeds — 
the  principal  danger  to  his  crops — were  it  not  that  his  narrow 
beds  are  easily  reached  from  all  sides. 

The  native  mode  of  agriculture,  therefore,  need  not  be 
interfered  with  :  it  has  been  tested  and  found  excellent. 

Another  question  is,  hovv  shall  we,  on  this  basis,  make  our 
black  fellow-subjects  useful  to  ourselves?  In  my  opinion, 
there  are  two  w^ays,  as  to  both  of  which  the  pros  and  cons  are 
about  equal.  Both  have  been  in  operation  for  some  time,  so 
that  we  have  a  standard  to  guide  us  in  forecasting  the  ultimate 
development  of  the  whole  colony.  In  the  one,  the  native  is 
not  encouraged  to  advance  in  his  own  home  and  on  his  own 
holding,  but  is  trained  as  a  labourer  on  the  plantation  of  a 
European  master — plantations  being  laid  out  wherever  suitable 
soil  and  tolerable  climate  promise  a  good  return  for  outlay. 
The  other  method  has  the  progress  of  the  native  himself  in 
view,  and  aims  at  increasing  his  economic  productivity  by 
multiplying  and  improving  the  crops  grown  by  him  on  his  own 
account,  teaching  him  new^  wants  and  at  the  same  time 
mcreasing  his  purchasing  power.  In  this  way  it  is  hoped  that 
he  will  exchange  his  exports  for  ours. 

The  future  must  show  whether  the  German  people  will 
decide  for  one  of  these  ways  to  the  exclusion  of  the  other,  or 
whether,  as  heretofore,  both  will  be  retained.  For  the  mother 
country  their  value  is  about  equal  and  depends  on  the  degree 
of  activity  shown  in  colonial  affairs  as  a  w^hole.  But  the 
second  is  decidedly  to  the  advantage  of  the  native  himself. 
As  a  plantation  labourer  he  is  and  remains  a  mshenzi  ;  as  a 
peasant  proprietor  he  is  able  to  advance.  At  the  same  tiniv.' 
we  must  not  forget  that  our  colonies  were  founded  in  the 
expectation  of  providing  homes  for  our  surplus  population,  and 
that  if  the  native  is  to  claim  the  most  fertile  parts  of  his  own 
country  for  himself,  nothing  can  come  of  that  ver  sacrum.  It 
also  depends  on  the  general  direction  of  our  policy  whether  the 
numerical  increase  and  physical  improvement  of  the  native 
are  to  our  interest  or  not.  Some  primitive  peoples  have  almost 
or  entirely  disappeared  under  the  influence  of  civilization  ; 
the  Tasmanians  belong  to  history  ;  the  Maoris  of  New  Zealand 
and  the  Kanakas  of  Hawaii  are  rapidly  diminishing,  and  w^e 


THE  AFRICAN'S  CAPACITY  FOR  PROGRESS  421 


have  lately  heard  of  the  last  Vedda  in  Ceylon.  The  negro  race 
does  not  belong  to  these  candidates  for  extinction  ;  on  the 
contrary,  wherever  it  has  come  in  contact  with  the  white,  it  has 
grown  stronger  in  every  respect  ;  there  is  therefore  no  fear  of 
its  dying  out.  But  shall  we  go  further  and,  by  artificial 
selection,  deliberately  raise  their  coefficient  of  multiplication  ? 
Certainly  we  ought  to  do  so,  for  a  numerous  resident  population 
is  under  all  circumstances  a  benefit  to  us.  It  solves  the  labour 
problem  for  the  planter,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  European 
manufacturer  and  merchant  will,  of  course,  prefer  a  large 
number  of  customers  to  a  small  one.  How  is  this  improvement 
to  be  initiated  ?  I  have  nothing  further  to  add  to  the  remarks 
which,  d  propos  of  the  various  diseases  and  other  scourges  of 
this  continent,  occur  in  the  preceding  pages. 

In  Europe  some  people  are  stupid,  others  of  moderate 
capacity,  and  yet  others  decidedly  clever.  The  huge  lip- 
ornaments  of  the  Makonde  and  Makua  women  sometimes 
produce  the  impression  of  a  simian  type  of  face,  and  small  boys 
occasionally  suggest  by  their  features  a  not  remote  kinship  with 
the  missing  link,  but  this  exhausts  the  list  of  excuses  I  could  have 
alleged  for  looking  down  from  a  superior  height  on  the  people 
in  question.  In  all  the  months  spent  among  the  natives  of 
the  Rovuma  Valley,  I  never  discovered  any  reason  why  we 
should,  as  we  are  so  fond  of  doing,  associate  the  idea  of  absurdity 
with  the  African.  On  the  contrary,  the  behaviour,  not  only 
of  the  elders,  but  of  the  liveliest  of  the  young  people  in  their 
intercourse  with  Knudsen  and  myself,  was  characterized  by 
a  quiet  dignity  which  might  well  have  served  as  an  example 
to  many  a  European  of  similar  social  position.  My  personal 
experiences  will  not  allow  me  to  believe  in  the  dogma  of  the 
negro's  incapacity  for  development.  It  cannot  be  denied  that 
he  has  achieved  a  certain  intellectual  progress,  even  in  North 
America,  though  the  obstacles  there  are  greater  than  the 
facihties.  Why,  therefore,  should  he  not  rise,  as  soon  as  the 
opportunity  is  offered  to  him  in  such  a  way  that  he  can  take 
advantage  of  it  ?  Only  we  must  not  expect  this  advance  to 
take  place  overnight,  any  more  than  we  can  expect  a  rapidity 
of  economic  progress  at  variance  with  every  law  of  historical 
probability. 

It  is  now  quite  dark  ;   the  boat  must  have  changed  her 


422  NATIVE  LIFE  IN  EAST  AFRICA 


course,  for  the  gale  no  longer  meets  us  in  front,  but  comes 
from  the  port  side,  so  that  no  doubt  we  are  approaching  Crete. 
To-morrow,  or  the  day  after,  we  shall  pass  the  coast  of  Greece. 
I  must  confess  that  I  am  looking  forward  to  a  sight  of  this 
country,  though  I  do  not  regard  its  classic  age  with  the  same 
unbounded  and  uncritical  enthusiasm  as  many  of  our 
countrymen,  to  whom  the  ancient  Greek  is  the  embodiment 
of  all  historical  and  cultural  virtues.  One  thing  only  even 
the  blackest  envy  cannot  deny  to  the  Hellenes  of  old — a 
courage  in  colonial  enterprise  which  we  should  do  well  to 
imitate  both  now  and  in  the  future. 

This  future  is  still  shrouded  in  mystery.  Will  our  East 
African  colony  become  a  second  India  ?  I  do  not  doubt  for 
a  moment  that  it  will,  and  my  mind's  eye  sees  the  whole 
country  traversed  by  railway  lines.  One  of  these  follows  the 
old  caravan  road  from  the  coast  to  Tanganyika.  The  iron  horse 
has  superseded  the  old  carrier-transport,  and  the  clattering 
train  now  bears  the  carriers  themselves,  as  well  as  bulky  goods 
which  could  never  have  been  put  on  the  market  under  the  old 
system.  One  line  runs  to  the  Victoria  Nyanza  and  another 
to  distant  Nyasa  ;  we  are  able  to  link  up  with  the  British 
network  of  railways  in  South  Africa,  wdth  the  communications 
of  the  Congo  State,  with  the  Nile  Valley.  Thirty  years  ago 
Stanley's  march  to  the  Lake  Region  and  his  boat-voyage 
dow^n  the  Congo  were  epoch-making  achievements.  We  of 
to-day  may  perhaps  live  to  make  the  trip  by  train  de  luxe  from 
the  Cape  to  Cairo,  and  from  Dar  es  Salam  to  Kamerun. 


INDEX 


Abdallah  bin  ]Malim,  Wali  of 
Mahuta,  352  et  seq.  ;  his 
noisy  devotions,  399- 
400  ! 
Achmed  bar  Shemba,  song  by,  31  j 
Adams,  Pater,  on  the  ^Makonde, 
259-60 

African  continent,  conformation  of 
in  relation  to  Coloniza- 
tion, 415 
race,  original  home,  question  of, 
12 

African  Fund,  the,  9,  10 
Age-classes,  304 

Akundonde,  Yao  chief,  information 
from,  140,  184 
settlem.ent  of,  212,  visit  to,  213 
et  seq. 

Alum,  as  water-clarifier,  153-4 
AncestOf-worshiD,  326 
Antelope-hunting,  200-1  i 
Anthropologv,    difficulties    of,  in 

G.E.  Africa,  53 
Artistic  aptitudes  of  Natives  {see 

also  Drawings),  36 
Asiatic    origin    of    African  races, 

discussed,  12,  13 
Assuan  dam.,  the,  lessons  from  for 

Germany,  413-5 
Astronomical  beliefs  and  customs, 

Yao,  184-5 
Atlantic  Ocean,  historical  density,  6 
Axes,  etc.,  bewitched,  210-12 

Babies,  see  Children  &  Infants 
Bagamovo  roadstead,  2 
Bakeri  of  Zanzibar,  140,  142-3 
Bangala  river,  Camp  at  mouth  of, 
208 

Bantu  imitation  of  the  Masai,  118 

origin,  tribes  of.  12,  53,  139 
Baraza,  the,  65,  described,  135 
Bards,  170,  175 

Bark    cloth,    ceremonial    uses  of, 
276-7,  313 

manufacture  of,  274  et  seq. 
Barnabas  as  artist,  367-8 
Birth  customs 

Makonde,  281,  283 

Yao  (as  to  twins),  283 
Black  race,  distribution  of,  explana- 
tion of,  13 
Boots,  question  of,  71 


Bornhardt  on  the  geology  of 
German  East  Africa,  66, 
67-8 

Botanical  features  {see  also  Bush), 

^lasasi  region,  69 
Bows  and  arrows,  74 
methods  of  using,  75-6 
as  toys,  285 
Boys'    initiation    ceremonies,  see 
Lupanda,  and  IJnyago 
Brass-founding,    native,  267-70 
British  Colonial  Empire,  comments 

on,  417 
Burial  customs, 
Makua,  132 
Yao,  194  &  )iote 
Bush  and  Scrub  vegetation,  51,  52, 
60 

Bush- burning,  58-61,  255,  257 

Bwalo,  the,  231  &  note 

Calico,    as    dower,  306 

over  graves,  194,  214 
Camp  life,  83-4 

sleeping  discomforts,    119,  163, 
164 

Cape  Banura,  24,  25 

Guardafui,  14,  15 
"  Cape  rubies,"  209,  210 
Camon,  Archdeacon  of  Masasi,  45 

hospitality  of,  74 
Carriers,    see    also  Wanvamwezi. 

difficulties  with,  393 

paving  off  of,  and  farewell  to, 
393-4,  400,  405-7 
Cattle,    Matola's,    138,  stampede 
by,  164 

Central  Lukuledi  Valley,  lions  in, 
245 

Chain-gangs,  28,  44,  native  draw- 
ing of,  371 

Charms  {Dawa),  129  ;  used  in 
Majimaji  rebellion,  51 

"  Cherchez  la  femme !  "  397-9 

Child-life,  native,  G.E.  Africa, 
157-8  &  note,  284 
et  seq. 

Children,  native,  characteristics  of, 

and  aspect,  148 
Chingulungulu,   author's  stav  at, 
104  et  seq. 
description  of,  134  et  seq. 
diseases  noted  at,  192 


424 


INDEX 


Chingiilungulu — coiitd. 

meaning  of  name,  104  note 
native  amusements  at,  169 

characteristics,  106 
route  to,  from  Mkululu,  126-7 
water-supply  at,  150-2 
Chipini,  tlie,  see  Nose-pin 
Chiputii    or    girls'    initiation  or 
Unyago  ceremonies,218, 
219,  230  et  seq.,  dances 
at,  220,  223,  songs  at, 
232-4,       maskers  at, 

235-  7,   stilt-dancers  at, 

236-  7 

Matambwe  form,  239  et  seq. 
nature  of,  304-5 
witn'^^ssed  by  author,  299 
Chironji,  insular  mountain  of,  69 
Chiwata,  Nakaam,  chief  of,  108 
Christianity,     versus     Islam  for 

Natives,  70 
Chronology,  native,  145,  146 
Cinematograph  work,  27,  34,  177, 

218,  237,  356 
Clan  names,  and  Clan  system,  279, 

310,  312  et  seq. 
Climate  and  appetite,  43 
Cloth,  see  Bark-cloth,  &>  Calico 
Colonial  Congress,  the  First,  10 
Colonization  in  Eastern  Equatorial 

Africa,  4,  45 
Collecting  methods  and  collections, 

362  et  seq.,  386 
Collins'  dynamometer 
tests  of  Europeans,  8 
tests  of  Natives,  39 
Colonists,  industry  essential  in,  416 
Combs,  native,  124 
Corn-grinding    by    women,  163, 

methods  of,  165-6 
Cotton  cultivation  at  Saadani,  415 
Couch  of  native  chief,  129 
Crocodiles,  Rovuma  river,  346,  347 
Crops,  prevalent  near  Masasi,  92 
Currency,  G.E.  Africa,  101-3 

Dances,    native,  child-performers 
of,  284-5  &  7iote 
at  Chiputii  ceremonies,  220,  223 
at  Dar  es  Salam,  26 
Masewe,  296 
Nigoma,  62 

Pantomimic,  at  Mahuta,  354 
Stilt,  176 

by  Suhla,  the  bard,  172 
at  f/wy ago  ceremonies,  181  et  seq., 
296 

Women's  [see  also  Chiputa  supra), 

62,  64 
Yao,  177 


Dar  es  Salam,  harbour  and  bay,  1, 
2  &  note 

hfe  at,  26  et  seq. 

Mangoes  at,  409 
Daudi,  native  preacher,  155,  250 
Dawa,  see  Charms 
Death,  omens  of,  210,  212,  273 
Death  and  Burial  customs 

Makonde,  259 

Yao,  396  &  note 
Dernburg,  Herr,  418 
Diabolo  playing,  native,  379-80  & 
note 

Doherr,  Captain,  411 

Domestic  animals    and    Birds  at 

Matola's,  137-8 
Pigeons,  91 
Doors,   and  fastenings,  Makonde, 

262 

Dove-cotes,  native,  91 
Drawing,  native  powers  of,  36-9, 
72-3,  99-101,   168,  366 
et  seq. 
Dress  of  Matola,  147 

of  Nakaam,  146-7 
Dress  and   clothing,   native  past 
and  present,  274 

Yao  women,  49 
Drinking  customs,  170,  186 
Drums,  62,  241 

at  Chiputu  ceremonies,  241 

toy,  of  children,  290 

tuning  of,  by  fire-heat,  222 

of  Unyago  dances,  181 

various  ways  of  playing,  222-3 
Drummers,  sacred,  301 
Dwellings,  see  Huts  and  Dwellings 

Ear-discs  or  Studs,  56,  219,  260 
East  Africa,  see  also  German  East 
Africa 

Coast  harbours  on,  geological 

origin  of,  25 
Orography  of,  66-9 
Equatorial,    Colonization   in,  his- 
tory of,  4 
Eclipses,  Yao  beliefs  and  customs 

concerning,  184 
Egg,  use  of  at  Chiputu  ceremonies, 
233 

Elephants  near  the  Rovuma,  209, 
345,  350-1 

Endurance,  native,  40 

Europeans  in  the  tropics,  charac- 
teristics of,  41,  42 
Food-consumption  by,  43 

Ewerbeck,  Herr  Commissioner,  26, 
44,  46,  48,  58,  73,  140. 
335,  409 

Exogamy  in  East  Africa,  189,  282 


INDEX 


425 


Fashion,  African  and  European, 
57-8 

Farming,  native,  415,  419-20 
Festivities,  native,  at  Mahuta,  376 
Fever,  curious  form  of,  252-3 
Feet,  effect  on,  of  Jigger,  251-2 
Filter,  an  improvised,  152 
Fish-drying  stages,  Rovuma  river, 
202 

Finger-nails,    brittleness    of,  at 
Newala,  251,  254 
loss  of,  by  Knudsen,  254-5 

Fire,  in  Unyago  ceremonies,  300, 
302 

Fire-arms,  use  of,  by  natives,  198 
Fire-production,  and  maintenance, 
195-8 

Flies,  torment  from,  147-8,  246 
Flutes,  ipivi,  291 

Floors,  earthen,  in  native  huts,  65, 
135 

Food,  native  staple,  84 
Foresight  of  Natives,  89-91,  94-5 

Gama,  Vasco  da,  and  East  Africa,  4 
Games  and  toys,  284  et  seq. 
Garnet-mine    at    Luisenfelde,  78, 
209 

Geographical  Exploration  of  the 
German  Colonies,  Com- 
mittee for,  10 

Geology  and  Anthropology  in  study 
of  Race-development, 
13-14 

German  East  Africa 

considerations   affecting  succes- 
sion, 415  et  seq. 
cotton  cultivation  in,  415 
soil  of,  and  agricultural  possibili- 
ties, 415-6 
musical  backwardness  of  tribes 

in,  174 
rivers  of,  414-5 
south-east  corner  of,  46 
water-supply  questions  in,  414-5 
German    Imperial    Post    in  East 

Africa,  111 
Germans,    the,    characteristics  of, 
8,  24 

colonial,  social  difficulties  of,  41 
Gestures  indicative  of 

Age,  146 

Time,  145,  246 
Ghost-stories,  327-8 
Girls,  attitude  to,  of  parents,  281-2 

puberty  of,  customs  at,  315 

seclusion  of,  292 
Go-betweens,  matrimonial,  306 
Grain-storage,  89-91,  136-7 


Graves,  native,  53,  54,  132,  183, 
194  &  note 
of  Makua  chief,  264 
trees  at,  326-7 
Yao,  features  of,  214 
Guillain,    Admiral,    book   by,  on 
African  History,  etc.,  3 

Haber,  Geheimrat,  Acting  Gover- 
nor, 17 

Hair,    arrangement    of,  various 
tribes,  260  note 

Hamitic  races,  original  home  of, 
12  ;  tribes  descended 
from,  11 

Hanno,  and  the  grass-burning,  58 
"  Hapana  "  and  "  bado,"  123 
Hatia  I,  grave  of,  194 
Hatia  III,  Sultan,  grave  of,  53,  54 
Hatia  IV,  "  Sultan  "  of  the  Makua, 

53,  wife  carried  off  by 

lion,  54 
Hearths,  129,  136 
Hemedi  Maranga,  Corporal,  245 
Henderera's  village,  334 
Head-shaving,  Makonde,  reason  for, 

259,  260  &  note 
Historic  sense,  the,  417 
Hunting,  native  interest  in,  198 
Hunting-dances,      Makua  tribe, 

177-81 

Huts  over  graves,  194  &  note 

used    in    initiation  ceremonies, 

215-7,  218,  219,  240,  296 
Huts  and  Dwellings 
at  Mahuta,  352 
Makonde,  231,  262 

painted,  366 
Makua,  261,  264 
Masai,  86 

windowless,  88-9 
sub-division  of  interiors,  84 
Tembes,  86 
Wamwera,  55 
Wangoni,  338,  349 
Yao,  65,  134  et  seq.,  261-2 

Ikoma  dance,  223 

Indian  Ocean,  historical  importance 
of,  6,  7 

Infant  hfe,  native,    63,    157-8  & 

note,  281-4,  351 
mortality,  88 
Infants,  still-born,  Makua  graves  of, 

132 

Initiation  ceremonies,  see  Chiputu, 
Lupanda,  and  Unyago 
Interiors,  visits  to,  88  et  seq. 
Ironworking,  native,  26 


426 


INDEX 


Island  camp,  Rovuma,  river  207-8 
"  Island  "  mountains,  East  Africa, 
66-9 

Islam,     versus     Christianity  for 

Natives,  70 
Italy,  disafforestation  in,  5,  6 

Jager,  Dr.,  10,  geographical  tasks 
of,  11 

Jigger,  havoc  wrought  bv,  87-8, 
251-2 

Justice,  trials,  punishments,  etc., 
27,  28,  121-3,  135 

Juma,  drawing  by,  168 

Jumbe  Chauro,  Makonde  huts  and 
fastenings  at,  261-3  & 
note 

Kazi  Ulava,  kerosene  and  fatalism, 
86,  87 

Kakale  sticks,  uses  of,  291,  297 
Keloid  patterns  (scars),  56-7,  223, 

260,  356,  359  et  seq. 
Kibwana,  author's  "  boy,"  20,  167 
Kiheru  river,  401 
Kilwa,  pori  beyond,  46 
Kilwa   Kisiwani,    associations  of, 

23 

Kitulo  heights,  404,  view  from,  44 
Kitututu,  insular  mountain  of,  69 
Knots,  as  calendar,  328-9 

as  records,  330 

tying  of,  Akundonde  on,  186 
Knudsen,  Nils,  61 

hunting  of,  392 

accident  to,  394  et  seq. 

official  duties  of,  77-8 

services  secured,  190,  191 

superstitions  of,  397-9 

Yao  wife  of,  307 

on  the  Wangoni,  333 
Kofia  tuie,  a  quaint  name,  110 
Kondoa-Irangi    expedition  aban- 
doned, 17 

Labrets,  219 

Lake  Eyasi,  peoples  near,  1 1 
Manyara,  peoples  near,  11 
Langheld,      Captain,      and  the 

Wangoni,  339 
Last,    J.   T.,    on   the   Makua  lip 

ornament,  56 
Laughter  under  difficulties  (pelele- 

wearers),  219 
Lepers  in  German  East  Africa,  107, 

192 

Lichehe  Lake,  204 
Lidede  Lake,  the,  335-6 


Likoswe,  Che,  "  Mr.  Rat,"  a  bard 
dress  of,  176 
name  of,  280 
songs  by,  176-7 
Likwata,    women's     dance,  62-3, 

words  and  music,  64 
Linder,    Herr,    welcome   from,  at 
Lmdi,  402-4 
song  on,  176-7 
Lindi  Bay,  geology,  etc.,  of,  25 
District,  rebellion  in,  51 
Town,  25 

attractions  of,  28 
boom  at,  393 
execution  at,  27 
social  conditions  at,  41 
and  its  hinterland  journey  to, 
17  et  seq. 
Linguistic  notes  on 

difficulties  of  the  student,  345 
interchange  of  "  1  "   and   "  r," 
373 

Makonde  language,  382  et  seq. 

pitch  of  voice,  119 

prefixes,  156-7,  175  &  note,  25^ 
&  note,  313 

Wasandawi,   1 1 

Wataturu,  12 
Lions,  boldness  of,  54 

distribution  of,  209,  245 

a  fastidious,  209 

song  in  praise  of,  159 
Lisakasa,  or   Unyago  huts   {q.  t'.), 
296 

Litotwe  (rat)  in  carvings,  364 
Liver,  the,  in  "  medicine,"  200 
Livingstone,   Dr.,   in   Africa,  116 

&  note,  204  &  note 
Locks  and  keys,  263  &  note,  264 
Luagala,  401 

Litgomho,  the,  musical  instrument, 

288-90 
Luisenfelde  mine,  78 

visit  to,  209-10 
Lujende  river,  coal  measures,  142 
Lukuledi  river,  25,  402 

leper  hospital  at  estuarv  of, 
192 

Valley,  48,  50 
Lupanda,  or  initiation  of  Boys,  29^ 
emblem  of,  217 
Yao  form  of,  300 

Machemba,  noted  Yao  chief,  239, 
401 

Mafia  island,  23 

Mafiti  people,  341,  raids  of,  248 
Magic,  native,  186,  324 
Mahichiro's  grave  at  Witi,  194 


INDEX 


427 


Mahuta,    original    home    of  the 
Makonde,  259 
huts  of,  352 
importance  of,  332 
scenery  of,  335-6 
Majaliwa,  Wangoni  chief,  340 
forestry  of,  348 
new  palace  of,  349 
Majeje   country-,    "  insular  moun- 
tains "  in,  67 
Majimaji  rebellion,  the,  31,  51 
Makachu,  Wangoni  chief,  337,  341 
Mkomahindo,  "  insular  mountain  " 
of,  69 

Makonde  beds,  the,  248 
masks,  235 

Plateau,  48,  66,  342-3 

bush  growth  on,  60,  239,  255, 

256,  257 
configuration,  area  and  surface 

of,  255 
geological  formation,  256 
lack  of  water  on,  248 
natives  on,  characteristic  fea- 
tures of,  265 
distribution  of,  248 
industries  of,  266-7  et  sea. 
rivers  and  streams  of,  151 
timber  on,  348 
view  from,  255 
Makonde  tribe 

ancestral  traditions  of,  258-9 
death  and  burial  customs,  259 
huts,  231,  261-2 
occupations  of,  248-50 
language.  382-3 
marriage  customs,  307 
name  of,  explained,  259  &  note 
■  stilt  dancers,  236-7 
Makua  tribe 

clans   and   clan  names  among, 
313 

dances  of,  177  ei  seq. 

death  and  burial  customs,  132 

hunters  and  hoe-tillers,  97 

huts  of,  261,  264 

marriage  customs,  307,  314 

migrations,  118 

mouth-stones  of  girls,   322-3  & 

-note 

traps  of,  97-8 

women's    initiation  ceremonies, 
218  et  seq.,  230  et  seq. 
Malay  fire-pump,  197 
Mamba,  Seliman,  rebel  leader,  29 
Mambo,  339 

Mangupa  village,  Matambwe  Chi- 
putii  at,  239,  240  et  seq. 

Manhood  and  womanhood  initia- 
tion ceremonies,  170 


Maps  drawn  by  natives,  373  et  seq. 
Marching,  life  during,  78  et  seq. 
Marriage  customs,  native,  G.  East 
Africa.    189.   282,  305, 
30.  314,  et  seq. 
Marquardt.  Herr,    of  Luisenfelde 
Mine.  209  ;  death  of  his 
child,  210.  373 
]Masai  race,  origin  of.  12 

characteristics  of,  70  et  seq. 
huts  of,  86,  88-9 
Masange  marriage,  305  &  note 
Masasi  district,  area  of,  66 
Mountains,  248 

botanical  interest  of,  69 
geology,  etc.,  of,  66-9 
(place),    missionaries  at,    45  & 
7iote 

Masasi  races,   tribal  affinities  of, 
69,  70 

^lasasi-Rovuma  plain,  tribes  upon, 
\3) 

]\Iasekera   Matola,    chief    and  his 

familv,  103 
Masewe  dance,  181-3,  296 
Masks  and  masked  dances,  235-7, 

304.  363-4 
Matambwe  tribe.  Chiputu  among, 
I  239  et  seq. 

I        past  and  present  condition,  205 
Matola  (the  elder),    142    &  note, 
143.  333 

Matola  (the  younger)  Yao  chief  of 
Ciiingulungulu.  108 
j        dress  of.  147 

hospitality  of.  132-3 
1        house,  etc.,  described,  134  ct  seq. 
and  sick  child,  292-5 
on  Bakiri  of  Zanzibar,  etc.,  142-3 
Matola  Salim,  see  Salim 
Matriarchvin  G.E.Africa,  189,  307, 
'  314 

laws  of  inheritance  under,  309 
Mavia  Plateau,  343 
Mavia  tribe,  261 

Mazitu  [see  also  Wangoni),  inroads, 

116  &  note,  117 
Mchauru,    interests   at,  224-5 
Mchinga  Bay,  24 

Medical  demands  on  travellers,  86 
et  seq. 

"  Medicines,"  hunting,  199-201 
j        for  illness,  323 
'        at  Unyago  of  women,  233 

Medula,  the  magician,  225  et  seq. 

Meyer,  Prof.  Hans,  10 
I     Merker,  Captain,  on  the  origin  of  the 
Masai,  12 

Meteorites,  Yao  belief  as  to,  184 
I     Mgoromoudo,  see  Xylophone 


428 


INDEX 


Migrations  of  native  races,  48,  118, 

139  et  seq. 
Mikindani,     and     its  hinterland, 

journey  to,  \1  et  seq. 
Mikindani  beds,  the,  248 
Mimicry  among  natives,  116,  118 
Mixed  races,  how  accounted  for, 

13 

Mirambo  of  Unyanyembe,  401 
Mitete  (boxes)  carven,  364-5 
Mkvvera,  "  insular  mountains,"  68 
Mkululu,  126 

MHpa,  deceased  chief,  grave  of,  264 
Modesty,  evolution  of,  and  variants 

in,  131 
Mombasa,  importance  of,  3 
Moon,  the,  Yao  beliefs  and  customs 

as  to,  184-5 
Moritz,  author's  "  boy,"  20,  167-9 
Mothers-in-law,  native,  position  of, 

282,  307-8 
Mosquitoes  on  the  Rufiji  river,  22 
Mouth  and  lip  ornaments,  various 

tribes  {see  also  Labrets 

and  Pelele),  55,  56  & 

note 

Mouth-stones,  of  Makua  girls,  322 
Msolo  tree,  sacred  in  Makonde,  326 
Mtandi  Mt.,  an  insular  peak,  6,  9 

ascent  and  aspect  of,  71 
Mtarika,  Yao  chief,  death  omen  of, 
212 

Mtua,  Yao  natives  at,  48,  49 
Music,  see  Songs 
Musical  Instruments 

names  of,  215,  288-9,  291,  391 

as  toys,  289 

Yao,  171 
Mwiti,  home  of  Nakaam,  113 
Mwiti  river,  113 
Myomho  forest,  see  Port 


Nakaam  of  Chiwata,  importance  of, 
.  108 

at  home,  113  et  seq. 
dress  of,  146-7 

interest  of  in  foreign  affairs,  etc., 

125-6 
true  origin  of,  115-9 
on  the  mixed  character  of  the 
Yaos,  146 
Namaputa  ravine,  212 
Names,  native,  clan,  enquiries  on, 
312,     meanings  and 
origins  of,  310 
Names,  personal,  279 
clan  names,  ib. 
meanings,  279,  280  &  note 
new,  assumed  on  initiation,  280 


Namuki,  insurgents,  31 

Namwera  women,  dress  of,  arrange- 
ment of,  57 

Native  characteristics  and  habits, 
52,  94,  120,  123,  144, 
147,  152,  202,  246-7, 
395,  summary  of,  418-21 
clothing,indigenous  and  imported, 
274 

cultivation,  methods  of,  257-8 
eloquence,  143 
estimate  of  time,  144-5,  246 
handicrafts,  124 
historical  knowledge,  144 
intellectual  potentialities,  421 
interest  of,  in  European  matters, 
125 

powers  of  resisting  climate,  etc., 
88 

teeth,  premature  decay  of,  143-4 
utilization  of,  420 
Natura,  friction-drum,  290 
"  Nature-peoples,"  the,  some  errors 

concerning,   90   et  seq. 

&  note 
Naunge  camp,  207 
Navigation,  of  African  natives,  21 
Nchichira,   333,  author's  stay  at, 

336 

Newala,  climatic  troubles  at,  243 
et  seq. 

diseases  met  with  at,  323 
grave  at,  of  A  atola  I,  143 
lack  of  water  at,  250 
Hfe  at,  243  et  seq. 
missionaries'  arrival  at,  142  note 
position    of,    view    from,  and 

climate  at,  203 
revisited,  230 
old  towns  so-called,  250 
Ngoma  dances,  26,  62 
Ngurumahamba,  48 
Ningachi,  the  teacher,  366,  methods 

of,  381-2 
Niuchi,    Makua    village,  women's 
initiation  ceremonies  at, 
230  et  seq. 
Nkunya,  famous  shanri  of,  142,  143 
Nose-pins,  or  studs,  49,  130-1,  219, 
341 

Nyangao,  Benedictine  Mission  at, 
ruined,  50 

Oehler,  Herr  Eduard,  10,  geo- 
graphical tasks  of,  1 1 

Omari,  author's  cook,  20,  208,  387 
as  artist,  371 
characteristics,  167-9 
escape  of,  from  lion,  209 

Omens  of  evil.  210,  212,  373 


INDEX 


429 


Ornaments    and  ornamentation, 
personal,  of  Natives 
Bangles,  222 
Ear-discs,  56 
Keloids  (scars),  57,  223 
Labrets,  219 

Nail  in  lower  lip,  56  &  note 
Nigutila,  or  lip-pin,  56 
Nose-pins,  49,  130-1 
Pelele  (q.  v.),  55-6,  219 
Owl  as  omen  of  Death,  210,  373 

Pacific  Ocean,  historical  import- 
ance of,  6 
Parents,  native  respect  for,  188, 

189,  282 
Pelele,  the,  232,  240,  260 

effect  of,  on  articulation,  383 
laughter  by  wearers,   eftect  of, 
219 

at  Mahuta,  306  et  seq. 
of  Makonde  women,  56 
of  Wamwera  women,  55-6 
Personnel  of  author's  expedition, 
20 

Pesa  Mbili,  caravan  leader,  30,  31 

as  artist,  370 

duties  of,  81.  82 
Phonograph   experiences,    26,  30. 

34,  148,  155^^55^.,  172-P 

magic  ascribed  to,  320-1 

native  enjoyment  of,  34-6 

results,  385 
Photographic   experiences,  34,  95, 
284,  320,  356,  and  re- 
sults, 384 
Pigeon-trap,  96 
Pigeons,  kept  by  natives,  91 
Pigs,  Matola's,  137-8 
Pile-dwellings  Rovuma  valley,  319 
Pombe,  native  beer,  93-4 
Pori,  the,  46 

definition  of,  60-1 

lions  on,  boldness  of,  55 
Porter,  Canon,  of  Masasi,  46 
Portuguese,  the,  in  East  Africa,  4 
Pottery-making,  native,  270  et  seq. 
"  Problem-play,"  native,  378 

RACE-development,     problem  of, 

discussed,  13 
Rage,   fits   of,   in   white   men  in 

Africa,  41 
Rainfall,  G.E.  Africa,  415 
Rat  trap,  native,  98 
Recurrent  Eever  Tick,  the,  106-7 
Red  sea,  the,  7 

Results  of  author's  Expedition,  384 
et  seq. 


Rhythm,  assistance  of,  to  work, 
389-90 

Riddles,  Yao,  160  &  note,  et  seq. 
Rivers,  G.E.  Africa,  drawbacks  of, 
414,  415 

Roads  in  G.E.  Africa,  excellence 
of,  239,  333-4,  404 

Roads,  333-4 

Rondo  Plateau,  50 

Roofs,  Makonde,  262,  and  Yao,  65 

Rovuma  river,  crocodiles  in,  206, 
346-7 

delights  of,  204  et  seq. 

fertile  valley  of,  260  ;  beauties  of, 

342-4 
game  in,  260 
march  to,  203-4 
native  farming  along,  419 
region    of,    past    and  present 

condition  ,  116 
shifting  course  of,  206 
wild  animals  near,  20,  209,  344, 

350 

Rovuma,  steamer,  20 
Rufiji  river,  mouths  of,  21 
Rufiji,   steamer,    18,    voyage  in, 
19  et  seq. 

Saadani,  cotton  cultivation  at,  415 
Saidi  Kapote,  village,  402 
Saleh,  author's  erstwhile  Corporal, 
245 

Sarcopsylla  penetrans,  see  Jigger 
Seats,  superior,  at  Sefu's,  238 
Secret  societies,  304 
Sefu  bin  Mwanyi,  Akida,  230,  238 
Serpents  and  snakes,  native  tales 

about,  51 
Seyfried,  Captain,  44,  culinary  skill 

of,  43 

Shabruma,  Wangoni  rebel  leader, 
111 

Shemba,  Achmed  bar,  Sol,  march 

sung  by,  31-4 
Shume  forest,  349 
Simba  Uranga  estuary,  Rufiji  river, 

21 

Sketching,  value  of  skill  in,  9^-100 
Skin-colour,  various  tribes,  52-3 
Slaves,  freed,  see  Wanyasa 
Sling,  the,  286-7 

Smells,  African,  82,  147,  223,  240, 
246 

Snake,  crowing,  "  songo "  song, 
etc.,    about,    159-60  & 

note 

Soldiers,  native,  386 
Somali  wreckers,  15 
Songs,  words  and  music,  native, 
264-5,  328 


430 


INDEX 


Songs — contd. 

at  Chipiitn  ceremonies,  232  et  sea. 
240 

at  Dar  es  Salam,  26-7 
March  sung  by  Sudanese  soldiers, 
31-4 

by  Sulila,  172.  173-4 
Wanyamwezi    carriers',  30,  31, 

389-92 
Yao,  1 56,  1 59 
Souls,  departed,  dwellings  of,  324, 

326,  327 
Spiegel,  Lieutenant,  401 
Spinning,  bv  Medula,  the  magician, 

225.  228-9 
Stilts,  dancing  on,  176,  376 
Stamburi  as  artist,  368 
Strandes,    Justus,    book    by,  on 
history  of  E.  Africa,  4 
Strength,  physical,  European  and 
native  dynamometer 
tests,  40 

Stuhlmann,    Dr.    Franz,  culinarv, 

skill  of,  42 
Sudanese  soldiers,  march  of,  music 

and  words,  31-4 
Sulila,  the  bard,  170  et  seq. 
Svastika,  the,  at  Nakaam's  house, 

114 

Tails  of  animals,  in  magic,  215  «;/f 
Tanga,  port,  2 

importance  of,  411-12 

native  educa  ion  at,  and  music, 
412 

Telephcne,  an  African,  290-1  & 
note 

Temhes,  described,  86 
Throwing-sticks,  286-7 
Tick,  the,  of  Recurrent  Fever,  106-7 
Timber  of  Makonde  Plateau,  348 

of  the  Rufiji  delta,  21,  22 
Time,  native  means  of  reckoning, 

145,  246,  328-9 
Tobacco,  chewing  and  snuffing  of, 

at   Chingulungulu,  147 
Tooth-brush,  native,  404 
Tops,  various  kinds  of,    287-8  & 

note 

Totemism,   defined,  312 

traces  of,  in  G.E  Africa,  313 
Traps,  native,  for  various  animals, 
96-8 

Trees  at  gra\es,  326-7 

Tree-worship,  324  et  seq. 

Troops,  disposal  of,  28 

Trunk  of  elephant,  tip  buried  bv 
hunters,  201 

Tsetse-disease  in  cattle,  Chingu- 
lungulu, 138 


I     Tsetse-fly  areas,  419 

I     Twins,  native  views  on,  283 

Ugali  porridge,  native  staple  food, 
84,  how  prepared,  166 

Uganda  Railway,  and  Mombasa,  3 

Ulimba,    musical    instrument,  288 

Umbekuru,  river,  46 

basin  of,  projected  railway  across, 
69 

Unguruwe  Mountain,  53 

Hatia  I's  grave  on,  194 
Unyago    or    initiation  ceremony, 
170 

after  customs,  304 
'         arrangements  for,  and  course  of, 
295  et  seq. 
author's  presence  at,  214  et  seq. 
bark-cloth,  used  in,  277 
j         dances  during,  181  et  seq. 
I         initiation  seats,  183 

instruction  given  during,  187-9 
value  of  author's  notes  on,  386 
Upiipii    plant,   239,    delights  of. 

240  &  note 
Usambara  railway,  411 
Usanye  (millet),  the  weeping,  omen 
I  of  Death,  212 

VoHSEN,  Herr,  of  Luisenfelde  Mine. 
209 


Waburuxge  tribe,  origin  of,  11 
I     Wafiomi  tribe,  origin  of,  11 
Wairaku  tribe,  origin  cf,  11 
Wairangi  tribe,  origin  of,  12 
Wakindega  tribe,  racial  affinities  of. 
11 

Walking-powers  of  natives,  125 
Wamatambwe  tribe,  famous  swim- 
mers, 346 
Wambugwe  tribe,  origin  of,  12 
Wamburu  tribe,  origin  of,  11 
Wamwera  tribe,  48 
characteristics,  62 
'         huts  of,  50 

j         location  and  condition  of,  50 

rebellion  of  and  consequences,  17, 

53,  383 
skin-colour  of,  52 
Wanduwandu.  Knudsen's  boy,  392. 

fate  of  and  funeral,  395, 
his  grave,  397 
Wanegc  tribe,  racial  affinities  of.  1 1 
Wangindo  tribe,  139 
Wangoni  enclave,  332-3 

natives  of.  observations  on,  336 
i  et  seq. 


INDEX 


431 


Wangoni  tribe,  immigration  of,  116 
&  note,  117-8 
huts,  338 

language  and  history,  339  et  seq. 
rebels.  111,  raids  of,  118 
true  origin  of,  341 
^Vanyam\vezi    tribe,    carriers  of, 

characteristics  [see  also 

Songs),  20,  23,  29,  80, 

203,  418-9 
Wanvasa,  the,  of  Masasi,  70 
Wanyaturu  tribe,  origin  of,  12 
Wasandawi  tribe,  language  of,  11 
Wawasi  tribe,  origin  of,  11 
Wataturu  or  Tatoga  tribe,  origin, 

and  language,  12 
Water,  neighbourhood,  why  avoided 

by  Makonde,  259-61 
Water-supply,  author's  precautions, 

153-4 

G.E.    Africa,     difficulties  with, 
150,  250-1 

Weddings,  native,  307-8 

Weule,  Dr.,  passim,  ethnologra- 
phical  and  ethnological 
tasks  of,  1 1 

Werther,  Captain,  view  by  of  the 
Wakindiga,  1 1 

Whirlwinds  on  the  pori,  etc.,  61, 
62,  149,  150,  217 
charms  against,  129-30 

Winds,  evening,  119,  126-7,  209, 
247,  402 

Wood-carving,  native,  363-5 

Words  of  dances,  see  Songs 

Woman,  primitive,  debt  of  civiliza- 
tion to,  271-3 

Women  [see  also  Girls,  iMarriage, 
Married  Life)  native. 
Eastern  Equatorial 
Africa  and  inland,  posi- 
tion of  and  duties,  162-3 
et  seq. 


^^'omen — contd. 

cry  of,  231-2  &  note,  297-8,  317 
of  Mahuta,  355  et  seq. 
Makua,  ornaments  of,  219,  222, 
223 

nose-pins,  130-1 
Wamwera,  ornaments  of,  55-7 
Wooden  figures  of,  260 
Yao,  dress  and  ornaments  of,  49, 
219 

Wonder-tales,  native,  210,  212 
Wooden  figures  of  women,  260 


Xylophone,  native,  288,  319 


Yao  tribe,  clan  divisions,  names  of, 
311  et  seq. 
dances  of,  177 
dandy  of,  213 

death   and   burial   customs  of, 

194  et  seq. 
drinking  customs,  186 
huts  of,  65,  128-9,  261-2 
Lnpanda  among,  300 
migrations  of,  48.  49,  118,  139, 

140  et  seq. 
origin  and  racial  affinities  of,  139 

mixed  character  of,  146 
predominant  at  Chingulungulu, 

139 

treatment  of  lepers,  192 
wooing,  305-6 


Zanzibar,  Sultans  of,  and  Dar  es 

Salam  harbour,  2 
Zanzibar  treaty,  the,  9 
Zulu  kingdoms,  origins  of,  117 
Zuza,  Yao  chief,  house  of,  128  et 
seq. 


THE  END. 


Printed  by  Sir  Isaac  Pittnan'^&  Sons,  Ltd.,  Bath. 
(2131) 


Date  Due 

MU  '53 

6/30/2012 

